


Cheat the System

by mooshkabunny



Series: Mechanic AU [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin/Padme - Freeform, Anthology, But by God will there be a lot of flirting, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, I am not tagging most of the ships besides the main one, I made this solely for me but I hope you like it, It'll be like a series of One Shots loosely tied together based on this premise, Its gonna be awfully slowburn and there will be other ships but for the most part its Gen fic, M/M, Minor Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Not Beta Read, Obi Wan and Anakin are Brothers and I'm not gonna hear any different about that thank you, Past Cad Bane/Jango Fett, Pre-Series, Tags to be Added as Needed I suppose, The shipping comes mostly in the form of a Strong Bias, There are ships but this is mostly a gen fic, With the occasional rewrite of the movies or episodes, and will function as the Slowest of Slowburns, episodic, mechanic AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 55,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mooshkabunny/pseuds/mooshkabunny
Summary: "If leave the Jedi Order, Anakin does, with him will you go?""Without question."Leaving the Jedi Order means many things. It means embracing ideas that a Jedi would never consider. It means bending the rules when they are unjust, or even just when its convenient. It means seeking out the Living Force in ways never taught behind the Temple's walls. It means they are constantly in danger, always in flux.But it also means, they're free.
Relationships: Cad Bane/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Mechanic AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1721341
Comments: 34
Kudos: 75





	1. The Fix

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the comic, Obi Wan and Anakin. After the events of the comic, wherein Anakin is questioning whether or not he wants to stay with the Jedi Order, Anakin decides officially to leave. Obi Wan, without question, leaves with him.
> 
> These are various stories on what happens after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT WARNING!: This first chapter implies pretty much all the gross stuff implied about Palpatine from the movies and show, that he has intentions to groom Anakin, a little more openly than the canon does, but not explicitly (Palpatine doesn't show up in this chapter, just the memory of interactions with him). If child abuse and grooming behaviors is triggering content for you, please feel free to skip this! It really is just set up for the AU. I'll put in the end notes a quick summary going forward if you do choose to skip!

They had called the Republic down to Carnelion IV on the basis of a lie. The Jedi did not help because it was the right thing. The Republic did not help because it was the right thing.

But Obi Wan had.

Obi Wan had tried to explain to Anakin what he had done--that it was not his own action, but the action of a Jedi that created a temporary peace for Carnelion IV. That being a Jedi meant being a part of something bigger, and that being alone, they could not have done this. But the war on Carnelion IV was caused by so many factions, all dedicated solely to their faction of choice. It was the children, individuals, that saw the flaw in every adult’s hope: The Scavenger thought the monolithic hope of Children would be her new faction to lead. The Closed and the Open were by all accounts the same, but could not stand one another.

Anakin could not puzzle it out. It made him think on his conversation with the Chancellor--even with their little subterfuge in the gambling den, corruption still existed. He made it sound almost that the very institutions he represented were the only things to keep him from destroying corruption. That he alone had the answers.

He’d also said that Anakin would always have a place by his side.

When Obi Wan asked at the end of the mission if Anakin still wanted to leave the Jedi Order, Anakin had not been able to come up with a response. It had been hours now, sitting and sulking in the transport back to Coruscant, trying to make sense of it all. None of it made much sense to him.

He was still young, they were always telling him, in direct contrast to his being too old. _Not a jedi. Just a slave._ Like the boys in his training session had said before they had gone.

Meditation was not a skill that Anakin was picking up. Where other padawans easily slipped into peace and tranquility, questions plagued him, and his desire for easy answers to those questions just left him angry. When he tried to ask others to help him piece it together, he was often dismissed… Well. He hadn’t always been. Qui Gon had listened and helped him think it out. He’d been patient, and understanding. He knew how much nicer it felt for everything to have a right and a wrong, and he told Anakin that while perhaps it should be like that, the Force worked in balance, and balance was more than dark and light, right and wrong.

But he wasn’t around to explain it further, and it was the further Anakin was having trouble with.

The cold of the transport ship sent a shiver down Anakin’s spine, immediately bringing him out of the little bit of meditation he’d achieved. He opened his eyes grouchily, only to spot Obi Wan watching him, ever concerned, ever disappointed.

Anakin had failed him. Why wouldn’t Obi Wan be disappointed? And while that broke Anakin’s heart, he scowled and shifted to face his master head on, arms crossed, eyes lowered. “Yes, Master?” he said, trying to tamper down his feelings, and failing, as always.

“You seemed deep in contemplation… I wondered if it would help to talk it out?”

“You gonna lecture me again?”

Obi Wan frowned, but shook his head before sitting on the floor where Anakin had been. “No… I intend to try a new method. I intend to listen.”

Anakin was surprised, but sat across from his Master. He almost felt guilty. “You don’t… Not listen.”

The chuckle that escaped Obi Wan was half hearted. “I believe I may have had this conversation word for word with my Master maybe half a dozen times.”

“Really?”

“Really. It is the job of the Master to teach, and you cannot do that without… Understanding,” he breathed deeply, and looked him in the eye, with something that looked softer than his usual exasperation.

While Palpatine’s listening often felt half a trap, and half a relief, this moment distinctly lacked the worry that he was breaking a rule. So… There wasn’t much to lose.

“You said that being a Jedi is why the Republic came to help, why these groups ask for our help… But you also revealed in the report to Master Ki-Adi-Mundi that the Scavenger had seen ancient sith, not Jedi. The Republic nor the Jedi can really do anything about the war between the Open and the Closed. And they can’t do anything about slavery! Or corruption! So…” Here, he was embarrassed. Here he almost felt in trouble, but… He’d already told Obi Wan he wanted to leave. It wasn’t sacrilege to question. Master Yoda, Master Jocasta Nu, many jedi encouraged it!

He spat it out, “So what good are they anyway?”

If Obi Wan was surprised, he hid it well. Anakin almost wanted him to be mad, to be shocked. Instead, he nodded.

Anakin shot up, and began pacing, ready to say more, more to make Obi Wan shout, roar, punish him, hate him, anything than just… Nod. “It seems to me like everyone is doing a lot of nothing! There’s so many rules, and the only thing that got something done was you breaking a rule! You lied, Obi Wan! And it helped! And when the Chancellor took me to the gambling den, my making the corrupt senator lose could have stopped him from stealing from the Republic, but the Chancellor didn’t do anything! It seems to me like some rules… Need to be broken. And you need to be brave enough to do it!”

That seemed to get a reaction. Obi Wan’s face had fallen, paled even. Anakin squared himself for punishment, even as he realized with growing embarrassment that he had revealed the Chancellor’s secret. But he was mad! He was mad at Obi Wan, at the Chancellor, at the Jedi--nothing made sense, and he wasn’t certain he wanted to be a part of a world that didn’t make sense. Not like this at least. Not where he’d have to perpetuate it.

Obi Wan didn’t say much of anything, just looking at Anakin, for far too long. He shifted on his feet, uncomfortable with the soft exasperated look Obi Wan wore again. What was that, anyway? “Well?” Anakin said, finally. “If you’re mad at me, Master, at least say something. Tell me to go, and I’ll go, and I’ll never bother the Jedi again.”  
All of a sudden, Obi Wan’s hands were on his shoulders, squeezing gently. Anakin looked up into his eyes, and finally realized what the look his Master had been giving him really reminded him of…

For an instant, Obi Wan looked almost like his mother.

He was worried.

“I am not mad, Anakin. On the contrary. I want to come with you.”

Anakin had not been for it at first. He stormed about the transport ship, listing all the reasons Obi Wan could not leave the Jedi Order. It was almost sweet. He had no idea how much Anakin really looked up to him. But his mind was made up.

Anakin tried to hide it, but as the cycle ended, and they set about to rest for the evening, he had begun to cry. A part of him thought he should pretend that he did not notice, but instinct told him otherwise… And he was trying, trying so very hard to listen to his instinct right now. Nothing else was making sense. Or if it did, it was horrible, and he should have been listening to his instincts sooner.

He sat by Anakin’s cot, and waited for him to turn and face him. He did, slowly, shy and ashamed, and it ate at Obi Wan that he would feel this at all. “I’m sorry, Obi Wan. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to--”

“No, I do, I do… You’re leaving because I’m leaving because Qui Gon told you. I didn’t want to ruin your life, Obi Wan. I didn’t. You don’t have to leave with me, please don’t leave. I’ll stay!”

“You don’t want to though, do you?” he said, quietly.

Anakin stared at him through teary eyes for a long while, before slowly shaking his head in admission.

“And I won’t make you,” Obi Wan smiled, thin and tired, but earnest.

Anakin opened his mouth to speak, but Obi Wan raised a hand to silence him.

“And you have nothing to be sorry for. I’m not leaving because of Qui Gon. I’m not leaving because of you. I’m leaving because I want to. Because I agree with you.”

He laughed, bizarrely, as Anakin shot out of his cot. None of this was a laughing matter, but he forgot how quickly tears could be forgotten at Anakin’s age. “You believe me?”

It was such a small thing to ask for. How many times had Qui Gon asked that of Obi Wan, and vice versa? It meant the entire world to be believed, and yet, how often had Obi Wan not granted his own Master that courtesy? How often had Qui Gon not listened or trusted Obi Wan, at least in the beginning?

He surprised Anakin, and himself, by pulling Anakin into a hug. “My vow to you, Anakin, is I will always, always believe you. I promise.”

Any other time, Anakin would have pushed him away, half in laughter, half whining. Instead, he held onto Obi Wan with such strength, he wasn’t sure he’d ever let go.  
So, it was decided.

Obi Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker would leave the Jedi Order for good.

Obi Wan had not wanted Anakin with him at the Council meeting, but after a minor heated debate outside its doors, Anakin had won the right to speak his case. Besides, Obi Wan had convinced him to not keep his secret to Palpatine. It was best that they heard it from his padawan. So they knew precisely why Obi Wan had to take Anakin away.

He felt the air grow cold amongst the Council members as Anakin spoke of his outing with Palpatine. Obi Wan himself felt a shiver run down his spine, a familiar one he could now correctly identify as the same shiver of goosebumps that struck him anytime he spoke with the Chancellor. It wasn’t much, but it was everything. He’d denied it until now, but instinct spoke true--whatever his intentions, the Chancellor’s aims were nefarious, and he had to get Anakin away from him at all costs. The story Anakin told could be construed as odd, but innocent enough. Obi Wan realized that before that was what always stayed his hand, made him not question why the Chancellor’s presence and interest in Anakin gave him such a chill. The Chancellor was a careful man. Logical adults would listen and hear an odd, if innocent enough story, and not listen to their feelings, so as not to create waves. Well. Obi Wan was done with that. He was done with it the minute he saw how distraught Anakin looked telling the secret before, and he was entirely done with it now hearing the whole story with the Council. Instinct was just the Force speaking through them all, was it not? And he had not been trusting it until now.

He could see the same realization in every member’s face, and yet… They were doing just as he had once done. They were calculating, giving leeway to such obvious ill intent. Or else, they were helpless to stop it. Or wanted it to continue, to see where it went, to see the evil spelled out for them so all that was left was a reaction. They had no plans to prevent anything happening to Anakin. They never did.

“Master Kenobi, much anger, I sense in you,” Master Yoda said, once Anakin’s story was done. Anakin looked up at him, curiosity plain in his face. Whatever he knew of what was happening, he was still so young, and life was still simple to him. Obi Wan wished that it could remain that way, and he wasn’t about to break that spell right now…

But in the future? In a life without the Order?

 _Best not to think of that right now_ , he thought, and cleared his throat to answer, trying to quell all feelings, trying to remember his training, “Not anger, no, Master. On the contrary, I feel… Quite certain in our decision.”

He took a step forward, maintaining as much decorum as possible, but feeling his hands shaking. He grabbed them behind his back and squeezed. “I know Anakin is a special case, but as you said before, Master Yoda… The Jedi Temple is not a prison.”

Master Yoda _hmmed_ at that, holding his cane close to his face, deep in thought.

Master Windu spoke up in his stead, “I think that your decision is wise, Master Kenobi. I commend you both for your bravery and insight to know what is the right path for you.”

“Truly, Master? What of Anakin’s… Special considerations?” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi said, eyeing Anakin as if he were an object to study, not a person. But perhaps Obi Wan was imagining things.

“Special considerations or not, Anakin’s connection to the force is incredibly strong. Is it wise to let someone with that amount of strength leave untrained?” Master Unduli pondered him with a frown.

“I’m right here,” Anakin whispered under his breath. “They’re always talking like I’m not here.”

Obi Wan tapped his boot against Anakin’s to get his attention. When he looked up, he tried to smile warmly, and even wink. He was listening. He was going to try to listen more often.

And he was also going to speak up more often too. “I’ll train him. That is what I have promised to do. Jedi or not, I’m his guardian, so he is my responsibility.”

“But a Jedi, you will not be.”

“No, I will not. Not anymore.”

Once again, the room was deadly silent. He could feel his hands begin to shake again, and his heart was pounding so hard and fast, he could feel it as if it were lodged in his throat. A tap at his boot drew his attention though.

Anakin looked up at him, smiled wide, and winked. And Obi Wan knew that they would be alright. All the darkness he felt lifted instantaneously.

“I have seen myself this… Behavior from the Chancellor. And from what you have expressed to the Council, I think we have to admit that we find ourselves in a singular circumstance,” 

Master Windu began, watching both of them with sympathy. “We cannot police what you do outside these walls, but I personally would encourage you to continue your training.”

“Police we cannot, nor would we,” Master Yoda began, and though he too looked on them with ancient pain, he spoke much more firmly than the sadness in his eyes suggested. “Disapprove should we of your path, direct action must we take. Jedi, you are not, but still of our temple, you are. Still our responsibility, in some way, you will always be.”

“That may be,” Master Billaba said, leaning forward, “but I don’t think we’ll have to worry much about these two.”

A gentle laugh echoed throughout the room, and it shook Obi Wan out of his guard. Anakin even smiled. Master Yoda nodded, and spoke the Council’s final verdict, “But stay here, you cannot. Not for the Jedi, no, for your safety, you must go. Trust, we cannot, the Senate in this matter. Given the supplies you need to leave, you will, but go, you must.”

Obi Wan bowed, and Anakin, though delayed, quickly did the same. “Thank you, Masters. Thank you.”

That was it. Anakin was done with the Jedi for good. And even if he was leaving the temple behind, he wasn’t leaving alone.

Obi Wan laughed as Anakin raced out of the Temple, jumping down each step with an almost giddy speed. “Well, don’t look too enthusiastic. The other Padawans will see you and wonder if they should leave too.”

“Maybe they should!” Anakin said, running backwards now to watch his Master… No, that wasn’t right. He stopped running to stand beside Obi Wan as they walked in no particular direction. “Hey, what should I call you now?”

Obi Wan looked distracted, but looked down at him with a brow raised, “What do you mean?”

“Well, we’re not jedi anymore, right? So… What do I call you? You’re not my Master! And I’m not your Padawan!”

“I’m still your Guardian, Anakin,” he sighed, but there wasn’t much behind it. Anakin could see the hint of a smile behind the frown.

“Right, but I can’t go around _calling_ you my guardian. That’s just. Weird. So what do I call you?”

“Perhaps just Obi Wan?” he shrugged, a smile now fully formed on his face, as he led them down a turn. “I’m just Obi Wan and you are just Anakin.”

He scrunched up his nose. They weren't _just_ anything, but he supposed that's what they had so far, “I dunno, but I’ll keep thinking!”

They were supposed to be heading off world, but Obi Wan was directing them far away from the landing platforms at the Temple. Anakin thought that they had been given supplies and money to be able to get off world, but Obi Wan explained that he thought they could save them money by taking more public transport. “After all, we’re civilians now. No more private ships for us.”

So they began heading towards the grungier sides of Coruscant, towards the main docking ports of the city, where all incoming off-world trade came and went. It was a bit exciting, actually. Seeing the lowest decks of Coruscant with the Chancellor had been exhilarating, half because it was something new, and Anakin craved novelty above all else. But the other half had been exhilarating because it wasn’t allowed—fear and anxiety had gnawed at his heart in tandem with the butterflies in his stomach. Walking to the docking platforms with Obi Wan though, he felt all that but without the hanging worry that he was about to be in trouble. Whatever trouble they were entering was the good kind right now. It was an adventure.

Obi Wan slowed to talk to various different authority figures, already looking as though each person he spoke to would be a dead end. Anakin decided to explore, spying all the different kinds of ships that were docking today. Most were fairly standard Republic cargo ships, boring, boxy things that certainly couldn’t move that fast. A Corellian Hauler sat on the farthest corner, brand new and shiny in a way that had to mean it was being sold here or up to no good. An Alderaanian vessel sat side by side with a Nabooian one, the white, clean shapes of Alderaan distorting in the Naboo fighter’s soft mirror-like curves.

A moment of memory flickered through him as he passed the Naboo fighter, of an angel and her smile. Maybe they could see her? That would be something. But his attentions were quickly distracted by loud bickering just a ways away.

Hiding under the Naboo fighter, Anakin watched as a round old Zabrak woman chased a Rodian and Weequay off her ship.

“You can’t just fire us!” The Rodian woman snapped, and the Weequay man nodded fiercely.

“That’s right, we quit!”

“Zaba, no,” the Rodian groaned, her hand going through her frills with exasperation. “That’s not what he means, we didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Wrong? Wrong?! I’ll tell you what’s wrong, pretties, I was fine with the two of you cozying up together, happy for you even, but what’s wrong to me is sneaking behind my back to steal my enterprise, is what is wrong!”

“We were just trying to collect clientele information to…” The Weequay started, but the Rodian woman smacked him, her face horrified and angry.

“To become competition!” The Zabrak roared, and due to her small and portly stature, it was almost funny. Anakin tried to suppress a giggle, as the woman continued to push the other two out of her ship and away. “Don’t you think I didn’t hear you talk of buying your own ship, opening up your own business! Away with you!”

“But Tetra! The galaxy’s huge, we would just be following in your footsteps! We’d be honoring you, an homage!” The Rodian woman was smart, but she picked a dumb man to be with.

“Besides, you’re getting older, Tetra! We’d be taking the load off of ya!”

Even from under the fighter, Anakin could see the whirlwind of exaggerated infuriated expression that danced across the old, horned Zabrak’s face. He did laugh this time.

“Old?! OLD?! Get off my ship, and I’ll be damned if you are ever competition for the likes of Tetra Vurana! You don’t even know sky from ground, the hell you thinking that you know how to fix ships and weapons! Off with you, you ungrateful scalliwags, off!”

The woman continued to grumble as she pushed the couple from the docks, finally stomping back inside her ship. “Taking a load off, I took a load off, your ungrateful asses, that’s what!”

“Anakin?” Obi Wan called, and when Anakin turned, Obi Wan knelt down to find him under the ship. “Anakin, what are you doing?”

“I think I found us a ride,” he said cheerily, and Obi Wan glanced at the Naboo fighter above him.

“We certainly aren’t about to steal this, no matter how fond of memories you have of them.”

“No, no, I got this,” he said cheekily, and dashed out from under the ship to approach the old Zabrak. Obi Wan followed at a distance, confused, but waiting.

As Anakin approached, he took a good long look at the Zabrak’s ship. It was absolutely a YT series (most likely a 1930), but due to heavy modifications, he couldn’t pinpoint which precisely. It’s circular shape was halved by a large, rectangular back, out of which two triangular thrusters poked out unceremoniously. It was as though a house had been built up on top of the otherwise sleek ship. The whole thing was painted a dusty pale color, almost rose, but far too dirty to truly claim it. And on the side, where the blocky part met the rest of the ship, words were painted in Common and Iridonian: _Miss Reliable, Parts and Repair._

He beamed. It was familiar work, but it would be doing it as a free man. And, she just had spots open up.

“Anakin, this isn’t a transport ship, it’s obviously some sort of… Business. We can’t ask them to take us off world,” Obi Wan said, with more than a little trepidation.

But Anakin was already bounding up the landing plank, and pounding on the door. As he waited, he turned to Obi Wan and shrugged, “So we might have to work a little to get off world! We don’t even know where we’re going, right?”

“Well… No, I suppose not,” Obi Wan was not pleased. As noises from the inside of the ship grew louder, his face continued to grow more and more unhappy. “Anakin, really, I think we can figure something else more suitable out, no?”

“What’d those other guys tell ya?”

“...They said no…”

“Well, here we are!” Anakin said, and turned just in time for Tetra Vurana to open the hatch to her ship.

She glared down at him, and up close, she was not a friendly looking person to be glared at by. Four long horns crowned her wrinkled forehead, with four more larger ones pointing from the back, and large binocular-esque goggles emphasized her drooped, piercing green eyes. Her traditional Iridonian tattooes meshed so perfectly with her tan, lined skin, it was hard to tell what was wrinkles and what was patterned. Up close, she was more boxy than round, dressed in a large, shapeless jacket covered in pockets and loops filled with tools. Her clothes hid it well, but he could sense years of strength and fight in her.

But he could work with that. “Hello!” he said, brightly enough to be charming, but with the easy smirk of someone who knew better than to be _too charming_ , “We are two passengers looking to get off world, and we wouldn’t be opposed to a little work too if came down to it.”

“I ain’t a pleasure barge, kid,” her voice was scraggly, high pitched in parts, and low and grating in others.

“But, you are in the market for workers, right?”

Her frown deepened, “How’d you figure that, kid?”

He shrugged. “I overheard some lowlifes talking about it, and I couldn’t help but think, man, if I had access to such a sweet deal, work and passage, I would never try to open up my own business and steal her clientele. That’s just wrong. Isn’t that wrong, Obi Wan?”

Obi Wan grimaced, “...Yes, it does seem rather rude.”

“And I just couldn’t help myself, I had to find this rare and excellent opportunity, and try and make up for what those two couldn’ do, you know?”

The Zabrak woman eyed him carefully, before leaning over to conspiratorially whisper in his ear, “You’re laying it on a little thick, kid.”

“Laying it on, I’d never!” he said, wounded and absolutely laying it on a little thick.

She chuckled, which Anakin considered a win. Standing back to appraise them, she smacked her lips together, and said, “Alright, says I’m thinking about it… Y’all seem a bit shiny to me. How do I know you can even do the work? What are you, anyway? Running away from home?”

“Something like that,” Obi Wan said, stepping forward now. “We are quite capable though. As pilots, mechanics, security, whatever you’d need. And we’re not… Certain where we’re going, if you needed a specific amount of time for a contract, rather than just one journey.”

She eyed him now, almost impressed. “What do you mean security?”

Anakin and Obi Wan shared a look. Should they tell her? Anakin wasn’t sure, and it looked like Obi Wan wasn’t either. But he sighed, and showed the woman his lightsaber. “We’re… Looking for new employment anyway,” he said, carefully.

That made Tetra Vurana laugh, and it was a blast of trilling sounds, harsh and cackling. “Ex-Jedis are you? I didn’t even know you could do that! I’d wonder if you stole them, but you’re much too shiny for that.”

A moment’s pause, and she laughed again, one single burst of air, before shaking her head, “Well, I’ll be damned if this isn’t the most interesting thing that’s happened to me in awhile. Fine, fine, fine. Come on in, you’re hired.”

“Really?” Obi Wan and Anakin said at the same time, and she twirled to glare one eye at them.

“Should you be? Get in, before I change my mind!”

The two of them scrambled to follow her inside, all the while wondering if this was too good to be true.

It was better.

Well, to Anakin it was.

Their initial contract was for a month. With the money they saved from traveling with Tetra rather than on an official Republic transport, Obi Wan promised that in due time, they could try to go back to Tattooine and figure out how to save Anakin’s mother. It was an ideal life, as far as Anakin was concerned--he thrived on the adventure of living in the stars, stopping by various transports and helping fix equipment, droids, weapons, the ships themselves. He was always adept at adapting, and at mechanics. While Obi Wan was not struggling to keep up himself, he did have an awful lot more questions than Anakin seemed to have about their current arrangement.

The biggest question, unfortunately, was who this clientele was. On the occasion, it was simply merchants, Republic sponsored fuel tankards, and other typical run-ins with individuals you’d expect on trade routes. But much more often, it was secretive. Tetra would meet the individuals in the airlock, and tell them after what the task was. After a couple of times, Obi Wan had to investigate.

And he didn’t much like the answer.

Anakin and he had been called aboard a Firespray Craft, as Anakin had called it, to repair a broken fuel line, when they had come across its owner dragging a man, tied up and kicking, across the floor to a holding cell. Obi Wan had frozen stiff, watching the action take place with cold dread. Anakin watched, but asked mildly what the bounty was for, shocking Obi Wan out of his own horror to instead point that same horror at Anakin. The boy just shrugged.

The Bounty Hunter, a man in Mandalorian armor (though Satine had once shown him how to tell the minute differences between frauds and the genuine article, and he could not help but see the marks of durasteel rather than beskar), seemed everything a bounty hunter should be: tough, aloof, and cold. But when Anakin asked, he leaned down good naturedly and ribbed him, 

“Asking too many questions.” It was a simple enough joke, but the way the man spoke revealed him to be someone much more comfortable making threats than making children laugh.

Still, Anakin laughed, although his grin was forced, and more than a little spooked.

Anakin set to the job, while Obi Wan excused himself, and rushed back into the _Miss Reliable._

“Tetra!” he snapped, and she barely looked up from the bookkeeping before raising a hand. He felt like a padawan again, scolded for something silly, but he pushed through, and adjusted his tone. “Tetra, I’d like to speak with you.”

She looked up then, smiling primly. “Yeah?”

This was going to be difficult. He groaned, “I did not realize we dealt with bounty hunters, Tetra.”

“This ain’t just any bounty hunter, kiddo, it’s Jango Fett. He’s always good for it. Why wouldn’t we do business with him?”

“That’s _Jango Fett_?” Obi Wan’s skin itched with the need to get away. Every part of him felt danger close by, and he had no idea why Tetra was so calm about it. “Tetra, do you realize how dangerous men like him are?”

“Obi Wan,” she said, “Do you realize how dangerous men like _you_ are? What do you think has the potential for more trouble? A bounty hunter or an ex-Jedi?”

She wasn’t wrong. “I’d never do anything to endanger you, Tetra, but I have to think of Anakin and myself,” he tried to make himself believe it, but in truth, as much as they had grown to like one another, he didn’t have much loyalty to Tetra. If it was better for them to leave, he would.

“You’re endangering yourself a lot more getting jumpy around a bounty hunter. He’ll think you’re hiding something,” she laughed. “Besides, Obi Wan, this isn’t the first criminal and lowlife we’ve done business with. It’s not illegal for us to fix anything that’s broken.”

He was close to bursting. He wanted to ask how he could not have seen it, or noticed, but he supposed… They had a good thing here. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to see.

She could see the struggle going within him, and she sighed, rising to meet him, “Look, kid, if it makes you uncomfortable, your month is almost out. I’m planning on doing some business on Stewjon soon. You can find where you want to go from there.” She patted him on the shoulder, and shrugged, “I understand, with the little one. There’s no hard feelings. You’re always welcome to work on the _Miss_ again, yadda yadda yadda.” She went back to her work, with one parting note of advice, “But outside of Jedi work, there’s not much that pays well that doesn’t require a little bumping elbows with crooks. Just think about it.”

And he did. Later, after the Bounty Hunter was long gone, and Obi Wan could breathe again without worrying that Anakin would be scooped up and carried off to the Chancellor, he sat down at their bunks and talked it out with Anakin.

“I just… We have to find a new life for ourselves, that’s for certain. And true, this is steady work, with plenty of time for training and we’re earning a lot. But there are more important things, Anakin, and…”

Anakin didn’t look convinced, but he was listening. He shrugged, “It’d be nice to see some sky again. What would we do if we left?”

“Well, we are landing on my homeworld soon, quite coincidentally,” when Tetra had mentioned it, he thought he would have felt more, but even now it felt like any other world. A place almost completely new and unknown. Totally arbitrary. “It’s well known for farming…”

Anakin didn’t say anything to that, and Obi Wan knew that farming wasn’t half as glamorous as roaming the galaxy and fixing things, either as a Jedi or as a mechanic. But it could get them away from danger, and keep their integrity intact.

Finally, Anakin spoke up, just as Obi Wan was going to try and continue his points on the merits of a farmer’s life, “I didn’t like seeing that Bounty Hunter. He’s just being paid to be a bully, really. But I don’t think Tetra’s wrong for taking money from the likes of them.” He sighed, “Sorta puts them in their place, I think. Somebody’s got to right?”

It was an odd, childish thought. Obi Wan shook his head, “I don’t know about that… but I agree. I was angry at her before, but I suppose it’s not wrong for her to carve out a space for herself in the galaxy however she can.”

“We were talking before. She said that for the rest of the galaxy, morals are a privilege. Jedi can be good because they have food and a temple and an education,” he paused, frowning. “I don’t think that’s right… but I also don’t know if she’s all the way wrong. And I can’t figure it out.”

Perhaps it wasn’t so childish after all. Obi Wan found himself at a loss for words. But philosophical quandaries aside, they still needed a plan. They needed precisely what Anakin spoke of: home, food, someplace to continue Anakin’s education. The question really came down to where that would be.

 _We could try Mandalore if all else fails_ , he thought for a moment. The thought of seeing Satine again was a sweet one, but he couldn’t make sense of the fear that mingled with it. No, no, he didn’t want to see Satine. Not like this, at least. Not while he was lost.

“We’ll land on Stewjon in a few days… And then we’ll see.” It was all the promise he could really offer, to himself or Anakin. They would have to wait and see.

Stewjon was green as far as the eye could see. Even the sky had a tinge of green to it. None of it was familiar or welcoming to Obi Wan. It was all brand new, and while the faint smell of jasmine on the air felt familiar, he had no real memories to connect it to. In fact, the first thing it really made Obi Wan think of was Naboo, and Qui Gon, and that ache did not leave as they set foot on his homeworld.

Tetra was kind. She said that she’d be on planet for two days, picking up a rare part. If she saw them before, and they wanted to leave, they could leave together. But if she did not see them, she’d assume their business was done. They paid her what little they owed her outside of their work, and set off into the heart of the planet.

He idly knew where they were going. He’d spoken with his brother on occasion, mostly through holos, but the rest of his family, he did not know well at all. But he knew where they were located, and what names to ask for if they had gotten lost. _Kaz Ra, Kahn Ne, Tona Ru_ , he thought to himself, repeating their names like a quiet prayer that perhaps this could be where he and Anakin belonged.

To his credit, Anakin did not complain or whine. He observed everything they came into contact with, with pleasant curiosity. He did not ask Obi Wan anything more about his family, knowing somehow that this was a difficult matter for him. He almost seemed happy to be walking up the hilly, grassy landscape, through various villages and farms. But only almost.

The people of Stewjon were a quiet, and shy group, and not accustomed to strangers. Through the village, and then the farms, people would stare out their windows at them, and if Anakin looked and waved, they quickly resumed their business as if they had been none the wiser to the presence of two ex-Jedi in their midsts. Obi Wan remembered many a planet he’d traveled to with Qui Gon, where the reaction to their presence was much the same. It always made him nervous, but Qui Gon was always patient, and understanding, “If a tauntaun riding ewok started walking the Jedi Temple, wouldn’t you stop and stare too?” He laughed at the memory, and Anakin looked up at him, curious.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, I’m just… Thinking of tauntaun riding ewoks, that’s all.”

“What?” Anakin raised a brow. “You space sick or something? Seeing the sun for the first time in a month getting you addled?”

Obi Wan just chuckled, and kept walking. It occurred to him that it had been some years since he’d called his family at all. At least before he met Anakin. He’d changed so much in that time, he wondered if the people of Stewjon had as well, or if everything here was always idyllic and green.

They would find out soon enough. A top one of the higher hills in the area was the Kenobi Farm. They turned to move toward it, already seeing a small figure spy from one of the electric fences around the area. She hopped down, curious and eager to meet them.

She was small, only about 4 or 5 years old, brown haired, brown eyed, with dirt on her face and dress, as if she’d been playing all day in the dust, or else working hard in the mud, and it had dried. Judging by her inquisitive nature, he would have guessed play, but her tone and questions certainly were very serious. “Who are you? Why do you come here?”

Anakin frowned at her, but Obi Wan spoke before Anakin could say whatever it was on his mind, “We’re here to see the Kenobi family.” He hesitated, unsure of what else to say. It felt odd to try and introduce himself to this young girl, who had some relation to him potentially, but he swallowed back the awkward feelings and knelt down in front of her. “My name is uh… Obi Wan Kenobi.”

She looked surprised, “There isn’t an Obi Wan Kenobi. I’ve never heard of you.”

He could feel Anakin tense up beside him, and he focused on that instead of his own sinking feelings. Instead, he smiled, “I moved away a long time ago. It makes sense you might not have heard of me. Could I speak to Kahn Ne or Kaz Ra? Kahn Ne is my father, and Kaz--.”

“Kahn Ne is my father!” she said, half excited and half annoyed. “You’re not my brother!”

“Obviously he is, if you have the same father,” Anakin grumbled, and Obi Wan shot him a look.

“Then you might be my sister. It’s nice to meet you… May I speak to Kahn Ne?” He was trying. The little girl looked at him with big, doubting eyes, but walked away, back up the hill. He wondered if maybe they should follow, but thought better of it. Something about her behavior suggested to him that they would not be receiving much in the way of a warm welcome.

“Mast--Obi Wan… Are you alright?” Anakin said, reaching out to him. Obi Wan welcomed the gesture, but shook his head.

“I’m fine, Anakin,” he said, quietly, as he watched bodies come from the top of the hill down. “I’ll be fine.”

“She didn’t know you,” Anakin whispered beside him, disturbed. “How could she not know you?”

“To be fair, I didn’t know her,” he swallowed. It had been… A long time since he last called his family. Perhaps too long.

An old man and a young man, a little older than Obi Wan, walked down besides the little girl. None of them really were really recognizable to him. Not even Kaz Ra, his brother, who it took Obi Wan much too long to note the same blue eyes that he himself had, and the same light brown hair. Kaz’s was beginning to turn grey at the edges. The old man, who must have been their father, wasn’t the oldest there could have been, just a slightly more wrinkled version of his son, Kaz, but still. The memory Obi Wan had of his father and mother was of young, beautiful people, tearfully saying goodbye. This man did not belong to that memory, even if he could piece the parts of his face together and see the resemblance. They paused, assessing each other, two strangers, a man and his charge, and Obi Wan had the sinking feeling that he already knew what was to come.

“Well, well, well. It really is you, Obi Wan,” his father said, in a voice far too old and far too distant.

He really couldn’t manage to say much of anything, and just nodded his head. His mouth felt oddly dry.

“Is something the matter here on Stewjon?” Kaz Ra asked, serious. “A Jedi matter? Can we help?”

He smiled at the generosity, but shook his head, “No, no, there’s no Jedi matter here.”

“Then why have you come?” Kaz asked, and while he looked guilty for a moment, the question still stood.

“It’s not that we aren’t happy to see you, Obi Wan, but,” the rest of his father’s sentence hung unspoken, a heavy weight in the already heavy and humid air. _Seeing you means trouble, so how could we be happy to see you._

Why had they come? Could they really build a life here? With these people who did not know him as anything other than a harbinger of doom? It would be the same with Satine. He’d spent so much of his life as a peacekeeper, that he had never thought of the other side of the coin. Where peace must be upheld, danger exists. Hadn’t it been much the same on Carnelion IV? And to the Open and Closed, he was only an arbiter of violence. Anakin was not well known as a Jedi, he hadn’t even the chance to truly become one. But Obi Wan? It was a shadow he would not be able to escape easily. And despite the lack of feeling between them, these were not indecent people. They were simply people.

He did not belong here.

“Our shuttle crashed not too far from here. It’s being repaired in town, I just thought to take the opportunity to show my Padawan where I was born, and pay my respects to you. I’m sorry to trouble you.”

Anakin looked up at him, but did not say anything. Kahn Ne and Kaz Ra immediately softened, but not enough to let their guard down entirely.

“Well, that’s nice! Come in, please, for tea, you’re not disturbing us at all!” Kahn Ne gestured them forward, all smiles now.

“That is terribly kind of you, but we should be off. I’m so sorry we could not stay longer.”

“Are you sure, Obi?” He was struck by the affection in the nickname his brother gave him, but it made him more certain than ever.

“I’m afraid so. Please… Tell mother,” what did he even want to say to her.

Kaz saved him from having to piece it together, and for that he’d always be thankful, “I’ll tell her what I always tell her, Obi. We’re proud of you.”

He smiled, nodded, and turned away. He had to get away quickly. Knots were forming in his stomach, of guilt, shame, sadness. He wasn’t even something they could be proud of anymore.

He wasn’t anything.

Anakin raced to follow him, but did not ask any questions. When they settled down to camp for the night, under a purple orange night sky he’d never seen before, Anakin did not push, or prod at the open wound. It wasn’t until morning, when they packed up and set off back to the _Miss Reliable_ that Anakin stopped them, put his hand on Obi Wan’s shoulder as best he could, and spoke.

“I never had more than my mother before. Then you and Qui Gon came into my life. You three were… the only people who could see me as Anakin, not as something else,” he pouted, thinking deeply on every word before looking Obi Wan in the eyes, trying as hard as he could to convey his sincerity. “I see you. You’re Obi Wan Kenobi… and when we save my mom, she’ll see you too.”

Obi Wan didn’t know what to say, but Anakin just hugged him quickly, and kept walking.

He never really thought about that before. He’d always thought about the Jedi that he was, not the man. Something he was almost certain now that Qui Gon had told him time and time again to consider. They’d only known each other a short while, but the Force worked in mysterious ways… Perhaps a bit of Qui Gon’s spirit lived on in Anakin in some way.

He caught up with the boy and clapped him on the back, smiling warmly. Anakin looked up at him, surprised, “So are we going back? I mean, at least for awhile?”

“We might as well,” Obi Wan sighed. “The pay is good.”

“And her cooking’s not terrible!” Anakin laughed.

“But just for awhile,” Obi Wan winked and Anakin laughed even harder, nodding enthusiastically.

“Just for awhile!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!! This and the next chapter are mostly the set up! Obi Wan and Anakin meet a cool old Zabrak lady who hires them on to be mechanics! Next chapter is more development with her, no more similar warnings like this chapter. Chapters after that will likely be very indulgent silliness that occurs in this here AU. Featuring a lot of flirting with just the Worst Person the galaxy has to offer poor Obi Wan, but that's why I'm here!
> 
> Thanks for stopping by and reading! I have... A LOT planned out for this?? Whether or not it all gets written, I'm hopeful, but we'll see. I can at least offer you two chapters of Slowburn Flirting content, if nothing else!
> 
> Thanks a bunch, and happy Clone Wars is back day!


	2. Desert Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mechanic Mom and Boss, Tetra Vurana, has some business on her home planet of Iridonia. Heroics are a hard thing to abandon for Ex-Jedi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A first dealing with the Nightsisters, a little earlier than in Canon. Loads of OCs here, and headcanons about Iridonia, which I couldn't find too much information about on Wookiepedia. If it's wrong, forgive me. I'm not too terribly inclined to fix it, so I hope you have fun with it despite its non-canonity.

Awhile turned into the rest of the year. They had begun making space in the _Miss Reliable_ for themselves, slowly but surely evolving it into something like a home. And it felt like one, with Tetra constantly badgering the boys to wake up on time (even though as ex-Jedi, they were used to waking up much earlier), her cooing over how much taller Anakin had gotten now that he was 13, and the both of them, any time they landed, trying to find something to brighten Tetra’s day. Obi Wan brought her many meilooruns, and Anakin, parts that could be useful to future jobs. With two ex-jedi on her ship now, the frequency of customers trying to shake her down to lower prices had dropped considerably. She was never one to be cheated before, but not for lack of trying. Now they didn’t even try! All in all, their arrangement was measuring up well.

Anakin could only think of one thing that would make him happier, but the little jar he kept by his bed was steadily filling with credits. It hurt to think they’d have to buy his mother, but Obi Wan was right. It was the best option they had right now. But Anakin had an open mind--more options could present themselves any day! Until they did, the two of them saved. Even Tetra contributed a portion of her personal allowance to the jar, and truthfully, Anakin had come to love her for it.

The old bag wasn’t even half as scary as when they had first met her either. Frightening though she could be, she was also silly, stubborn, nurturing, and overly fond of cantina bands, to the point of flirting with every and all of the players. She collected rocks from every planet they had been to for no other reason then she found them interesting. Obi Wan had been shocked to spy a kyber crystal among them, which she began hoarding jealously once told of its monetary and spiritual value. She had an assortment of different colored boxy coats covered in pockets and tool loops that she wore every day of every week. Anakin’s personal favorite was the dark blue one. He thought it suited her very well, and when he told her that, she pinched his cheeks. Nobody’d ever pinched his cheeks before. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but he liked the feeling of someone who cared about him enough to coo like that.

Affection was easy to build. Trust? Not as much. Tetra still kept them mostly out of the conversations with clients, and hid who those clients were from them. Anakin only once mentioned that he would not help slavers though, and though Tetra huffed that they couldn’t be choosey, she had relented. She assured him that not a single client they had were slavers.

Obi Wan still was mostly uncomfortable with the more obviously criminal aspects of their enterprise. Well funded and fully staffed Republic vessels, or the private shuttles of wealthy merchants were always, always, always charged more than was fair, but Tetra argued it was so any poor folks who couldn’t afford anything at all could still be helped. Not that they seemed to come across any poor folks in need, but they hadn’t seen Tetra turn anyone away, not just yet. But the obvious pirate or smuggler, or worse, bounty hunter, seemed to get a small discount, courtesy of Tetra. When Anakin had asked, she explained, “It’s for our protection, kiddo. We do the work, they still pay, but the extra worth goes into leaving us alone after it's done.” He had wondered about that, but it did make a little sense.

After that first bounty hunter, Jango Fett, Anakin tried to memorize the faces of the criminals though. If they were going to be their clientele, and simultaneously, people they needed protection from, it seemed diligent to try and remember who each of them were. But trust again came in the way. Even if they were allowed on the ship, Tetra dealt with most of them, and Obi Wan and Anakin only got passing glances at the clients. Still, he’d managed a small list of names he remembered.

“Dengar is a pretty useless bounty hunter,” he said to Obi Wan, during one of their mornings free. Break times were usually spent training in the shared open space between their beds, all other items pushed to the side for lightsaber maneuvers and meditations. Anakin sighed, “He mostly seems to work with other bounty hunters, since he’s always traveling with other sneakier people I can’t catch. I think one was a Trandoshan though.”

“Let’s see Form III, Anakin,” Obi Wan sighed. He was not as interested in the growing list Anakin was building. Anakin kept going anyway, as he shifted into the next lightsaber form.

“I noticed one of the ships had the symbol for the Blood Bone Order, which was sort of cool. They had a lot of art, Tetra says that’s mostly what they steal. Doesn’t seem so, so bad to just steal art.”

“Stealing is wrong in general, Anakin. Form IV.”

He shifted his feet, and went through the form’s cycle. “There was a lot of chatter in that last ship we did. Why do all these pirates break their ships? You’d think they’d have someone aboard to fix it.”

“They usually do, Anakin. Most of these criminals _can_ fix their own materials, it's just we are the ones with all the parts,” Tetra said, poking her head into their room to set down two mugs of water for the both of them, and grabbing something idly in the storage boxes that acted as their tables. “Some of them are _very_ lazy though. Like Dengar,” she chuckled.

“Well, that’s pretty smart. We’re smart,” Anakin said, moving into the next form without Obi Wan’s instruction. Obi Wan stopped him, adjusting his shoulders a bit, and explaining the proper hold for Form V, before letting him continue.

“It’s a way to survive, I can tell you that,” Obi Wan said as he moved back. “Though I do worry about the day someone leaves unhappy.”

Tetra glared at him, wagging a wrench in his face, “That’s not gonna happen so long as I’m alive! We are not _Miss Reliable_ for nothing!”

“But wouldn’t you agree that this particular clientele is nothing if not… Unpredictable? Surely, we can’t always keep them happy?”

Anakin groaned, and put his lightsaber away. Despite everything, this was still a fight that happened on the regular. And it always went the same way.

“We fix things when needed, we have the parts always ready and available, we charge a decently fair price, and we don’t ask questions,” Tetra grumbled, “That is all they ever want! That’s all anyone ever wants, but especially pirates, lowlives, and scumbags! Isn’t that what you and the boy want?”

He sat on his bed, watching as Obi Wan pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation for the thousandth time in his life. He even mouthed along, “We don’t have any secrets to hide!”

He mouthed Tetra’s next sentence too, just for kicks, “Then why aren’t you Jedis Jedi anymore? That seems a pretty big secret to me!”

And that was always the end. They’d huff and puff, and walk away because whatever it was, it wasn’t a real fight. Just a way to assert the little control either of them felt in their own lives. So Anakin felt it necessary to remind them that it wasn’t and never was a real fight. So he applauded.

“Great, great, that run through was really spectacular! Obi Wan, you did forget to mention integrity this time, but don’t worry, it still felt very real, very raw. Tetra, you did hit your cue to enter a _little_ late, just so you know,” he smirked. Both of them glared at him, and shoved him back onto his bed, leaving him laughing.

“You’ve gotten a lot of sass now, kiddo, I’d pack that up,” Tetra admonished, but he could see the gleam of a smile hidden in her eyes. “Pack everything you need up, actually, boys, I came in here to tell ya we’re landing soon.”

“Where are we landing?” Obi Wan said, already moving to gather his things.

“Iridonia,” she said, and Anakin couldn’t help but note a small bit of hesitation in her voice. “So get moving.”

Iridonia was a golden place. The ground was hard, and the sky almost a hazy bright white from the intense heat of the sun. There was a little green here and there, but most of the landscape around them was a deep, warm yellow, and if you dug your feet too deep into the caked, cracked mud, the underneath was a brilliant copper.

“It’s like if Tattooine was even a little pretty,” Anakin had accidentally said out loud, and Tetra had laughed at him.

“Nothing pretty about it. It’s just hot,” she said with a smirk, and trudged forward off the ship into the main city.

The city truly was a marvel though--all the monochromacity of the world around them was forgotten as they stepped through streets surrounded on all sides by large, domed homes of multicolors and patterns the like Anakin had only dreamed of. Patterns, as he thought about it, that matched the markings on many of the faces they passed by. Lanterns and paper flags hung from strings going across the top of the streets like it was a fair every day, but Tetra explained that the lanterns were to see in the dead of night--deserts get dark, as Anakin knew all too well--and the paper flags were actually the street signs of a sort. The pattern and color matched up together to denote where you were, and Zabraks in this part of Iridonia at least could easily find their way through the city on these markings alone.

“We got a bit of business for the _Miss Reliable_ , but then you’re free to go off and do whatever you want. I got another appointment after,” Tetra said.

“Buying up all the parts so our competitors have no hope of having them?” Obi Wan teased, and she gave him a quick side eye, and a puffed out, “Hush.”

They followed her through the crowded streets, sticking, like most everyone else, to the covered sides to remain in the cooler shaded spaces. Anakin drank in the sights, watching every face that passed, and wondered if he would look cool with tattoos similar to the Zabrak adults around him.

As they walked, distracted as he was, he nearly bumped into a small group of young women his age, but easily sidestepped them. He tried to smile brightly and wave, “Sorry about that, ladies!” And when they giggled at him, and waved back, he felt his face flush, and he hurried back towards Tetra and Obi Wan as fast as he could.

They both shared a look, and laughed. “What?” he asked. “I don’t know what’s so funny.”

“If they’re anything like me when I was their age, they’re just happy to see anybody without horns. You’re somebody pretty interesting to them girls,” Tetra smirked. “Don’t go rushing off and wasting the day flirting though, you hear?”

“I won’t!” Anakin grumbled, annoyed more than he thought he would be. “There’s no girl for me, but my angel.”

“Oh, you got a sweetheart, Anakin?” she laughed. “I learn something new about you boys every day.”

“Well, I haven’t seen her in a long time,” he said, somewhat sad. “Jedi aren’t supposed to have sweethearts, you know.” His eyes lit up as the realization dawned on him, “But, we’re not Jedi anymore!”

Tetra laughed, “Well, I hope your paths cross again! Now that you’re free!” She winked at Obi Wan as well, who quickly pretended to be distracted with something else.

“Are we almost there?” he said, and Anakin giggled to himself at the annoyed squeak in Obi Wan’s voice.

Tetra let them forward into one of the larger domed buildings, dark blue like her jacket, patterned with bright white stripes intersecting and meeting in bursts of light pinks and purples. They pushed aside the long burgundy curtain, and entered into the large shop. It looked much like the inside of the _Miss Reliable_ with shelves and shelves of parts, for any and every thing. A young woman with long auburn hair was laying down on the counter, fanning herself lazily, until Tetra coughed. She opened her eyes lazily, and fell off the counter immediately as she tried to scramble up.

Obi Wan rushed to help her up, and she laughed goofily up at him, before turning her attention back to Tetra. “Hiya, Ma’am, I didn’t know you were coming in today!”

Tetra had the look about her that Anakin had come to recognize that she was amused, but not going to put up with any nonsense, “Aebri Nuvaru, are you the only one keeping the damned store?”

The young woman, Aebri, half grimaced and half smiled, “No, Mom,” but then her eyes grew wide, “I mean uh, Ma’am.”

Behind the two women talking, Anakin gave Obi Wan a look, surprised they’d been allowed this close into Tetra’s life. Obi Wan simply shook his head, a suggestion to not bring it up, pretend to have not noticed. But Anakin was far too interested in this development.

“It’s fine, they work for me,” grumbled Tetra before approaching the counter, “Your father not around?”

Aebri was looking more and more put out by the minute. She rounded to the back of the counter and started picking up the space she had been--throwing her fan and holos into a corner so they could not be seen. “No, dad’s with Vera… She’s having another baby.”

“Oh? And whose looking after the babies I gave him, hmm?” the older woman laughed bitterly, poking about the shelves with no care to Aebri’s growing distress, grabbing items and placing them down on the counter as she saw fit. “How are my boys, Aebri? Sono’s got to be getting bigger, hmm?”

“He’s almost 13 now, yeah,” Aebri said, trying to place items back as her mother placed them down, but Tetra was too fast, and grabbed them right back. “Says he’s big enough to watch over himself, so means he’s big enough to take care of Seno. And Seno’s hanging on him like nobody’s business.”

“They do that, when they’re little. You used to hang on me,” Tetra said, and placed down a number of credits that seemingly appeared from nowhere. “We’ll take it all, including the Corellian engine you’ve got snuck in the back.”

Aebri stiffened, “Mom, no. That’s not for you, it’s been ordered by someone else.”

“How much, kid?”

Anakin was surprised, “I mean, if it’s been ordered by someone else.”

“How much,” it was final, Tetra’s tone. Everything in the air felt thick with some emotion that brought Anakin back to the Council’s chambers, all eyes on him, telling him he was not suited for life in the Temple. He wanted to stop Tetra. Obi Wan clearly wanted to stop Tetra. Aebri wanted to stop Tetra… But her shoulders fell, and her yellow eyes glared at her mother, and she left for the back room to fetch the engine.

“Tetra,” Obi Wan said, his tone one Anakin recognized well.

“Don’t ‘Tetra’ me, kid,” Tetra snapped. “This man took my business and my family. I had to remake myself. If he’s gonna have the gall to grab my supplies and sell ‘em, I’m gonna take ‘em back!”

“Was it really yours first?” Anakin had to ask. He didn’t know Aebri very well, but he felt like she needed someone to stand up for her. “And why make Aebri deal with all this? She’s your daughter.”

“Precisely, kid. She’s mine. This was all mine. And then it wasn’t,” she spat on the ground. “You have to make the world work for ya. Nobody’s gonna look out for you. I’m teaching you that, and I’m teaching Aebri.”

Aebri arrived with the engine, hovering lightly in front of her, despite its immense size. She seemed to have heard all that, and her face, before so sweet and silly and young, was cold and drawn. “Here you go, Ma’am,” she pushed the engine a little forcefully into Obi Wan, though Anakin knew he’d catch it before it really could hit him, Obi Wan did wince. Probably in some sort of display of empathy. He was very good at that.

“Don’t go giving me that look, Aebri. The man’s not even looking after the store or his children proper at all!” There was a little hurt in Tetra’s voice, but she reached out to no one, looked at nothing but the engine, examining it for any flaws. “I just gotta do what I have to to survive.”

It seemed like Obi Wan and Tetra’s fight in the _Miss Reliable_. Practiced, rehearsed, frequent. But Aebri didn’t seem like she wanted to play. She just sighed, and turned back to the counter. “Whatever you say.”

Obi Wan opened his mouth to say something, but Tetra beat him to it, “Take these things back to the ship, then you boys are free for the day.”

They hesitated, but eventually left with the parts and the engine. When Anakin looked back, he saw Aebri look like she was ready to tear into Tetra. _At least they can have a real fight_ , he thought. He shared part of that aloud, “I think it’s good to have fights.”

“What makes you say that, Anakin?” Obi Wan seemed lost in his own thoughts on the matter, but that broke him out of them well enough.

“Well, not like big, hurting feelings fights. Just disagreements. It shows you care. When Aebri stopped fighting it seemed like… Well, I dunno, like she couldn’t care if Tetra lived or died.”

“It’s probably difficult for her not to care, Anakin. That’s her mother.”

He frowned, looking at anything but ahead, trying to distract from that thought. “But I don’t get that either. My mother’s never been like that. Why is Tetra… and why does it seem…”

“That she’s much nicer to us? Well, we haven’t known her as long, Anakin,” he forced a chuckle, but the smile that accompanied it was tired and genuine. “I imagine it’s much like how we are. And how I was with my Master. When you are meeting someone new, just beginning a relationship, it’s easy to be kinder. We’re afraid of losing something just beginning or ruining it. Whereas, you and I? You can be as mad as you want at me, and I’ll always forgive you. So it’s… safer.”

Anakin smirked, “I can be as mad as I want at you, huh?”

Now he laughed for real, “Within reason.”

They had made it a couple streets away from the store when a voice cried out to them in Iridonian. At first, they thought nothing of it, until a young man approached them, trying again in accented basic.

“Wait, wait, please!” He said, his eyes, a deep purple, and wide with worry. His dark brown skin seemed sunken in and the little black hair he had braided in between his horns were a shambles, sticking out and pointing every which way. He looked desperate. “That engine, please, where did you get it?”

Anakin and Obi Wan looked between one another. A part of them knew Tetra wouldn’t approve, but in this man’s state they couldn’t not tell the truth. “The dark blue store on the end of the road there. Uh… Nuvaru’s? We just bought it.”

Tears formed in the man’s eyes. “I’m too late then,” he whispered, rubbing his hands on his face. “I ordered it, but I was trying to get the money to collect it… I was too late.”

Many deep breaths later, he tried to collect himself, and smile, but his shoulders were still slumped down, and his eyes were red and shot. He shook his head and began walking away, “It’s alright. As Temuk Nuvaru would say, it’s business. We’ll just… I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Anakin said, and Obi Wan too moved forward. “Why do you need this engine so badly? Will another one do?”

The man stopped, confused anyone would ask. But eventually, he spoke again, “My family doesn’t have much. It’s just me and my little sisters now. Nightsisters took our brothers long ago, and my parents died trying to save them. Most people here call that foolish, so they don’t feel badly for us.”

“Nightsisters?” Anakin asked, and the man nodded.

“Dathomirians,” was all the explanation offered there. And to the man, that seemed enough, judging by the way his eyes grew wide, and he held himself as if experiencing a chill. “But we have very little. Just our small home, and a greenhouse. But the engine is supposed to warm us, and our crops, at night… the nights here… they freeze. Everything is almost always covered in a fine layer of snow before dawn. Our old engine had been fine, but I could tell it was on its last legs, so I ordered the new one, even if I knew I could not afford it. I knew we’d be dead without it, either from the cold, or the loss from our crops… it’s just enough to feed us, but I try to sell it instead.” He was panicking a little, beginning to hyperventilate, when Obi Wan touched his shoulder gently.

“I’m sorry… I… I’ve just been working all day to make up the final payment. I’m a little… a little addled,” he shuddered, and Anakin wondered if he was more than addled. He almost looked sick.

“Please, give us just a moment,” Obi Wan said, and pulled Anakin aside.

Almost at the same time, they both said, “I think we should give him the engine.”

Obi Wan frowned, but he looked at Anakin with a hint of pride, “And what will we tell Tetra? She did pay for it, even if it was in the most manipulative way possible.”

Anakin’s heart sank even as he thought of it, but it was the right thing, “Take it out of our savings. We have to.”

“Anakin,” Obi Wan began, looking at him carefully, but Anakin shook his head.

It’s what his mother would want after all. “We do it. We have to,” he repeated, and they turned to the young man, grabbed their supplies, and pushed the engine towards him.

“Please, take it. We didn’t know it at the time, but it seems the Force has intervened. We bought this for you,” Obi Wan said.

“No, no, you bought this. It’s really alright, I was too late!”

“Trust me, you weren’t. We want you to have this. Please,” Anakin said, pushing it gently towards the man.

He looked close to tears again. He hesitated, but a nod from the both of them cinched the deal, and he took the engine with disbelief, and relief all at once.

“I… I don’t know how I could ever repay you,” he said, shaking both their hands. “You’ve saved our lives. Please, what are your names? So I can remember, and hope to one day repay you!”

“There’s no repayment necessary. It’s what anyone would do,” Obi Wan smiled. “But I’m Obi Wan. Obi Wan Kenobi.”

“I’m Anakin Skywalker!”

“And I’m Aurun. And I am forever in your debt. Thank you,” he shook both their hands again, and left, heading straight past the domes into the desert.

Anakin felt very light and hopeful. They had done a good thing. 

Tetra did not agree.

“You gave _my_ engine to some desert rat?! Did he even have a family name?”

She was storming through the _Miss Reliable_ now, stomping up and down its halls with a vengeful fury. Obi Wan privately thought she had the makings of a great Sith Lord with this tirade, but he kept that to himself.

“They needed it more than we did, Tetra, and he ordered it! Besides, we’ll pay the cost up, from our savings!” Anakin was not ready to back down though. Of the two of them, Anakin had gotten on immediately with Tetra. It was a bit of a surprise that he was carrying on this fight, without almost any input from Obi Wan. He simply observed, interjecting when he could, but with these two whirlwinds of individuality, that was not often.

“You’re damned right you’ll be paying, you’ll be paying me for months! Years, if I have my say, you’re lucky I don’t throw you off this ship this instant and leave ya for the sand worms!”

“That’s absolutely _fine_ by me!” Anakin roared. “You knew that engine wasn’t for you, but you bullied your daughter into selling it to you, and you don’t even feel bad about it!”

“You watch your tongue, kiddo, you don’t need it to fix things!”

“How does Aebri feel about what we’ve done? Because I’m damned sure she’d agree with us!”

Tetra paused, taking a breath, but still fuming. Gesturing wildly, she groaned, “That’s the worst of it! Apparently, Aebri made this deal with the desert rat behind everyone’s backs! Temuk is furious, so I have to deal with him on top of everything. And I haven’t even gotten a good chance to see my boys today,” her lip twitched, and she slumped down, sitting on the top of her desk with a soft thump.

Obi Wan moved to her, sitting beside her, but not reaching out just yet. “Temuk didn’t let you see them?” He ventured, and his heart sank with the small, barely perceptible nod Tetra gave.

Then, he put his arm around her. Surprisingly, she leaned into it, and Anakin too softened in his rage, coming up to her and patting her arm softly.

“He’s 13 now. I try to come every year, I do, I do. I try to come more, but I don’t belong here anymore. There’s no place for Tetra Vurana on Iridonia,” she sniffed, but immediately flared at the two of them. “And that’s fine, that’s fine with me, you hear me? I’ve carved a place for myself in the stars! I’m needed everywhere and I go where I’m needed!” Another sniff though, and Anakin squeezed her arm.

“Sono and Seno need you too… I’m sorry that you don’t get to see them as much as you hoped.”

She sniffed one last time, and toughened up, moving away from the two of them to pace again, her arms behind her back, and her face deep in thought. “Long ago, when Seno was just born, and the whole of this happened… I entertained the notion that I’d save up enough, and my children could come live with me, away from Temuk and Vera and their plans to replace them. But I had to come to the conclusion that they are better off here… Vera’s a kind woman, a… Dependable sort. Temuk loves them all very much. I’m just not cut out for that kind of life,” she paused and turned to them with a degree of heaviness about her they had not yet seen. “You make plans, kids, but they just don’t work out. I hope that it’s not the same for you, I do. But don’t be hurt when it doesn’t.”

She left them then, moving into her private quarters without another word. The fight was over, but the hurt remained. Neither of them felt very good about any of it.

“We did the right thing though, didn’t we, Obi Wan?”

He sighed, “We did. But sometimes the right is hard.”

“I thought I’d feel better about it,” Anakin shuffled his way towards his own bed, his head hung low.

“Me too,” that was all there was to be said. Because the truth of it was, the right thing was often hard, and often unsatisfactory.

Night fell and despite the hurt feelings ringing throughout the _Miss Reliable_ , sleep came quickly and easily.

Anakin dreamt of shadows in the complete blackness of a desert night. They came to the window and called with sweet, gentle words, and small children came out in droves to rush into their arms. The shadows took the boys away to a land of nightmares, and they never remembered any life before. They were always brothers, always bred to be used and discarded. Such was the way. Such was always the way.

He bolted up from the dream, sweating and anxious, only to realize that someone was banging heavily on the hangar door.

Obi Wan woke up as Anakin and Tetra made their way groggily to the door, and opened it—Aebri flung herself in, all sobs and horror in her voice.

“Mom, mom, they took them! They took Sono and Seno!”

Tetra’s face fell, but she didn’t say anything. She grabbed her daughter, and held her close as the woman wailed.

“Who took them?” Obi Wan asked, lightsaber already in hand.

Anakin, despite not knowing what they were, had the sinking feeling he already knew the answer before Aebri said it, “Nightsisters!”

“I had put them to bed, I locked everything up, just like always, and I couldn’t sleep, I went to check on them—Mom, I saw her, I saw her white eyes and red cloak and she just took them like it was nothing!”

“Where did they go? Do you know?” Obi Wan was already preparing to rush out, ever the hero, and Anakin was moving with him, but something held him back.

“What is a Nightsister?”

Aebri kept talking, frantic, “Dad and Vera won’t go look, they said it’s just the way, that at least they didn’t get the baby, but mom, we have to go look, we have to!”

Tetra finally spoke, and her voice sounded like it had aged a hundred years, “We can’t. The Nightsisters take what they need, and then they leave us alone. It’s how it goes.”

The hangar door was still open, and Anakin saw flakes of snow dance inside. But the chill was not from that.

Aebri shoved Tetra hard. “You won’t go look for them? Your own sons, you’re going to leave to the Nightsisters?” She screamed now, “After all that you say about wanting to be in their lives, about wanting to be a better mother, about how we’re all yours, you won’t go save them?”

Tetra moved back, and sat on one of the many storage boxes lying around. She looked as if in a trance. “What is there to do? This is how it’s always been.”

“I can’t…” Aebri started, but swallowed hard. “I’m not going to let something as stupid as that keep me from saving my brothers. I’ll go to Aurun. He’s brave.”

Tetra glared for but a moment, but did nothing else, as Aebri stormed out the hangar and slammed it shut behind them.

“What are the Nightsisters, Tetra?” Anakin asked again.

“The Dathomirians. They don’t have men of their own, so they collect ours,” she said, still half in a daze. “It’s been that way as long as I can remember. Even before. They took my brothers long ago. I guess we…,” she shivered, the tears welling in her throat and cascading down as she crumpled upon herself, “We come from good stock.”

He didn’t even need to think, “Come, Anakin, we can still catch up with them.”

“Right,” Anakin said, the two of them perfectly in sync.

Tetra looked up at them in horror, “Nothing can be done! They can’t be found, they disappear into thin air! Their magic’s too strong, even for Jedi!”

He was already out the hangar door, “Nothing’s too strong for a Jedi.”

Tattooine nights were cold, very cold, but nothing quite like Iridonia’s. The wind howled, lashing snow at their faces, stinging their skin and eyes, much more like the sandstorms on Tattooine than any night. They raced after Aebri’s footsteps, leading straight passed the city and deep into the desert. The yellow and green of the day was all replaced by a deathly quiet white.

There was no life around. Typically the Force sang out with it, and every little movement of living things would reach their ears, but everything was still, except the raging wind, and the crunch of snow beneath their footsteps. It was almost impossible to see more than four feet in front of themselves, but Obi Wan led the way, guided by the Force. Anakin forced himself to listen harder, to feel their way through like Obi Wan was, and found that even beyond the gale, if he focused hard enough, he could.

They came across Aebri and Aurun before long. They were on a speeder, Aurun tenderly tying a thin burgundy fabric around Aebri’s face, before they spotted them.

Aurun was a good man, Anakin decided, for the first thing he said when he spotted the two of them approach was, “Oh! I have more!” He produced two more scarves from his pack, and rushed over to Obi Wan and Anakin, handing over a green and blue one, and instructing them how to put it on.

“What are you doing here?” Aebri shouted over the wind. “Did Tetra send you?”

“No! We want to help though,” Obi Wan said, tying the blue scarf over his face as instructed. “Do you have an idea of where they may have taken the children?”

Aurun gestured them over to the landspeeder, despite the look Aebri shot him. “There’s a mountain pass a ways to the North that the stories say is where the Nightsisters appear from. When my parents went to save my brothers, I found them, cut up at the foot of it. I know the way.”

“Then we better move quickly. I imagine time is of the essence,” Obi Wan said, and the four of them hopped into the landspeeder, and drove.

“You all keep mentioning a place called Dathomir,” Anakin shouted over the noise. “But I’ve never heard of a place like that. What is it?”

“I confess, I have not heard of it either,” Obi Wan added. “I assumed all Zabrak came from here.”

Aebri did not answer, her eyes too focused on the whirlwind of white in front of them, but Aurun turned, and explained, his head low.

“Iridonian Zabraks come from here, yes. But Dathomirians aren’t Zabraks. They just take them, and keep them. It’s been happening for thousands of years. It’s that red planet in our system, and when you go near it you just feel…”

“It feels evil,” Aebri said, and Anakin wondered if he was the only one who heard her.

“Anyone who is taken there… They’re never seen again,” Aurun finished, sighing deeply. “It’s like they never existed.”

They arrived at the edge of the mountains, shocked that it was even colder here. Aurun, kind man that he was, passed out old and tattered cloaks to keep them warm, and even if they were old, they did the job. He motioned for their group to follow as he moved to where he had lost much of his family.

 _It feels evil is right_ , Anakin thought. The deeper into the pass, the stronger the darkside felt. It felt like water that trickled down your back, only to discover that each droplet had been a spider all along. It was dangerous, and sent chills through every nerve ending, and every acknowledgment of that feeling was electric and painful. But it wanted you to notice. It wanted to cause you pain.

The pass was quite empty. Life could not be found here. But as Anakin focused his attention to the force, rather than what was right in front of his nose, he could hear something. Something powerful, whirring, trying to get up and away…

“I hear an engine,” he said, mostly to Obi Wan, but Aebri took him by the shoulders quickly, begging to know where.

It was Anakin’s turn to lead, Obi Wan directly behind him. The sound inched closer and closer, until they came upon a turn, and he held his hand out to keep everyone from startling their prey.

The Nightsister was there, and she was not alone. Another two women, pale and covered in deep, blood red cloaks, were attempting to fix their ship, while the first pushed the children, floating in green smoke, up into the ship.

“Seno!” Aebri almost shouted, but Aurun held her close, whispering gently to her. Indeed, Anakin could see two boys, one about 5 or 6, the other his own age, both with Tetra and Aebri’s auburn hair, though their eyes were drenched in the green smoke that surrounded them.

“There are only three. That shuttle craft doesn’t look big enough for more, especially including the children,” Obi Wan said quietly.

“If I dismantle the ship further, they definitely can’t get anywhere,” Anakin moved to begin climbing up the rocks that surrounded the ship. “Then we can save them all.”

“Good thinking,” Obi Wan said. There was no smile on his face, but Anakin never missed the distinctly pleased gleam that flickered through Obi Wan’s eyes when he liked a plan. It almost never happened with Anakin’s plans, so he took the victory whenever he could. “Aebri, Aurun, stay here, don’t get involved. We can handle this.”

“What can you do?” Aebri said, disbelieving. “Do you even have blasters?”

Anakin began climbing as Obi Wan smiled at their two Zabrak companions, and ignited his lightsaber.

He walked with affected casualness into the clearing, immediately drawing the attention of the nightsisters, who hissed at him.

“Oh… Hello, there,” he smiled pleasantly, and the attack began.

The two closest nightsisters, who had been repairing the ship, lunged for him, pulling out long, scythe like daggers, glowing faintly purple in the white night. He easily parried them, focusing on bringing the third and last nightsister away from the children, pulling her through the force, until she fell right on top of one of her sisters.

Daggers again whizzed by his face, as the other two sisters tried to get up. He dodged, attempting a strike at the Nightsister’s shoulder, but was easily pushed back.

An arrow—made entirely from the force—flew by his face, as the fallen two stood back up, pulling their weapons from seemingly out of nowhere. Green force magic suddenly began to cloud his vision. But he had never needed his eyes to see.

No Jedi did.

The rocks were jagged and slippery, but the fight kept the nightsisters from noticing the 13 year old, climbing higher and higher above their ship. After a few slips, he thought he’d found a groove, but trying to stand up sent him careening down. With a quick roll, he landed on top of the nightsister’s ship, and he laughed in celebration.

“Easy!” He said, kicking open the hatch inside. A fourth nightsister hissed up at him, and he quickly tried to kick her in the face, only to be dragged inside. “Easy!” He shouted at her ghostly spectral face, as she inched towards him.

He force pushed her away, scrambling to get up and towards the cockpit. She groaned, but shook her head, and fast as lightning, dissipated into smoke and reappeared by his side.

“Oh, you’re trouble,” Anakin grumbled, igniting his lightsaber finally, ready to fully engage. 

It wasn’t even sound that Obi Wan followed, eyes shut and sparring with three nightsisters at once. No, their energies in the Force were noisy enough, and they could not keep up with him. Arrow after arrow, he bounced back to them, hitting one nightsister fatally, pinning her to the mountain walls, only to crumple in a heap when the arrow disappeared.

Two left to go. Daggers crackled with intense energy around him, one managing to get the slightest cut on his shoulder, but he rolled the nightsister off his back, slicing down and out to encourage her to move back.

“Now, can’t we be civilized about this?” He said. “You don’t have to steal children in the night. I hear the process of making one's own can be quite enjoyable.”

A kick to the face he didn’t quite plan for sent him flying into a pile of stone. He rubbed his face, and quickly blocked the pair of daggers. “I guess you don’t care for humor,” he grimaced, pushing back against the full strength of her.

The other nightsister took aim again, and he bounced the arrow back, hitting the ship it sounded like. Sparks sounded off in the whirl of the night wind, and he could hear one of the nightsisters begin to retreat towards the ship.

“No you don’t,” he pulled again, but this time the nightsister pulled back.

So they had similar force powers beyond this magic. They were locked in a stalemate, and all his focus was on the nightsister and trying to keep control with the Force. A perfect opportunity, he knew, so he was hardly surprised by the searing pain that went through his shoulder as the other nightsister stabbed him in the back.

Anakin was managing the nightsister well. She was equipped with a long staff, that sparked into a large, purple blade at the end, and every maneuver she made with it was slow, telegraphed, and easy to block. Almost too easy.

He fought his way into the cockpit, attempting to try and disassemble the ship as much as possible when suddenly, the whole thing started lifting.

Despite his best efforts, they were airborne, and Obi Wan was still fighting below. The children were also still below, as were the other nightsisters. He panicked, as the door whipped open, and the nightsister chuckled at him.

“You’re a much better prize, little one. Think of what you could do for us as a brother,” she lunged again at him, and now he could see she wasn’t trying to hurt him at all.  
This was a fight to exhaustion.

“Sorry, lady, I’m way too much of an only child for that,” he snapped dodging her next blow to roll beneath her and arrive at the controls again. He had to be smart about this. He could either blow up the ship, send them into a dangerous, looping, uncalculated hyperdrive jump, or send them straight to the ground.

 _Too late_ , he thought, seeing her raise her staff again for a finishing blow, he dodged out of the way, and let the staff connect perfectly with the control panel.

The nightsister growled, trying to pull her staff free, with no success. The ship began to twirl in place, and Anakin sighed a happy sigh as the nose pointed down.

“Oh good,” he said, before remembering he was still on the ship, “Not good,” he bolted, the nightsister after him, as they both raced for the hangar door.

But the ship didn’t have far down to go.

It tilted completely nose down now, and Anakin and the Nightsister fell back into the cockpit, landing on the windows just in time to see the ground come right up to their faces…

Obi Wan heard blaster fire, and the nightsister that had stabbed him slumped onto his shoulder, dead. He threw her off, sending a wave of pain through his arm that lost his connection, and he felt the other nightsister raced towards him, hungry for revenge.

“Duck!” Aebri shouted and he followed her command, and she shot the other nightsister dead in the eye. He realized his sight was coming back to him, as he spied Aurun leading the freed boys back to the landspeeder.

“I thought I told you,” he began, but Aebri screamed, pointing up.

The Nightsisters’ ship was falling, and it was heading right for them.

Anakin was on that ship.

Without a second thought to the pain in his shoulder, Obi Wan reached his hands out, holding the ship in place, willing it to slow down, slow down.

Dark circles popped in front of his eyes. He was dizzy, and could feel his breathing coming shorter and shorter, but he couldn’t think about that now. The ship was in his hands, but still coming down too fast.

 _Slow_ , his thoughts begged. _Slow._

It stopped right before hitting the ground, and Obi Wan couldn’t hold it anymore.

It fell, bottom up, and the plating screeching against the rock, but it didn’t fall hard.

Obi Wan dropped to his knees, panting, trying to collect any air into his lungs, but it wasn’t happening. He tried to stand, but Aebri gently pushed him back on his knees.

“Stay down, I’ll get him,” Aebri promised, racing towards the hangar door, and pulling it off with a practiced ease.

She really was in some ways quite as frightful as Tetra.

“Here, let me help you,” Aurun said, tending already to his wound with some paste Obi Wan couldn’t name, but he shook his head.

“The children?”

“They’re all safe and warm, let me help you now.”

Obi Wan would have continued protesting, but he wondered if perhaps the nightsisters used some sort of poison in their weapons.

It was his last thought before passing out.

“Thank you, Obi Wan!” Anakin cheered as the ship landed less than gracefully, and completely upside down. But at least he hadn’t been crushed to death! That was certainly a win in his book.

The other win came in seeing the nightsister he had been fighting with impaled on her own spear. Gruesome, but at least it was one less thing to deal with.

He raced back towards the hangar door, eager to celebrate with the lot of them, Aebri, Aurun, the children, Obi Wan—even Tetra would be so impressed once she saw!

Aebri opened the hatch for him, lending a hand, but he bounced right out, somersaulting in the air in glee.

“That was awesome! We did it, we really did it! Are the kids okay, how is everyone?”

He stopped when he saw Aurun loading an unconscious Obi Wan into the landspeeder with the children.

Everything stopped.

“Come on, kid,” Aebri said, but he barely heard. “We gotta get out of the cold, then we can help him.”

Despite protests, they had gone back to the _Miss Reliable_. Tetra was already out and about searching for them, and when she saw them and the state Obi Wan was in, she hurried them all inside without a second thought.

Inside, all the children were wrapped up warm, given hot tea, and snuggled to sleep safe and sound. Tetra held Seno and Sono for quite some time, while Aurun dealt with Obi Wan.

Anakin sat with Aebri, waiting to hear about Obi Wan’s condition. He held his arms around himself, paced, rubbed his face, jumped, anything to expel the nervous energy and anger that was slowly building up inside of himself.

Obi Wan always said to never let your emotions get the best of you, but Anakin never was good at that. Right now, he was doing everything he could not to scream and cry and break everything in sight.

It was his fault. He shouldn’t have let Obi Wan alone with three nightsisters. They were stronger than they had anticipated. Anakin wasn’t strong enough. If he had just been better, smarter, a good Jedi and never left the temple, none of this would have happened. It was all his fault. It was all Obi Wan’s fault. He didn’t trust the chancellor, he overreacted to Anakin’s silly worries, he shouldn’t have indulged a child.

“Are you okay?” Aebri asked, suddenly. She was watching him, her yellow eyes shining in the dark soft light of the _Miss Reliable._

“Of course I’m not okay!” He snapped, and then tried again to take deep breaths, to push the anger out of him, to feel nothing. “But I’m trying to control my emotions… so I can’t not be okay!”

“Why would you do that?” Aebri said, and he scoffed at her.

“It’s the Jedi way. There is no emotion, there is peace,” he threw his hands up, surrendering to his frustration. “But I can’t do it. I was a bad Jedi. I was always going to be a bad Jedi. And now…”

Aebri patted the seat next to her. He didn’t want to move, so she left and knelt before him. “I don’t know about Jedi, but I do know if you don’t feel what you’re feeling and talk about it, it can explode. Kind of like a leak in a fuel tankard.”

“I’m not a youngling, you don’t have to explain it like that,” he frowned, but his heart was beginning to settle. “Obi Wan always says though to temper our emotions. Not let them rule us.”

“And that’s a pretty good rule, honestly. But do you know what that means?”

“How would you know? You’re not a Jedi…”

She smiled, “No. I’m not. I’m just a person, who was once a teenager, and is now the big sister to a teenager, and it’s the same sort of stuff I tell him all the time too.”

He doubted it. “Why would nonJedi follow the Jedi code?”

She laughed. It was not like Tetra’s… well, perhaps a bit. But it was less bitter, still bright and warm, “Cause it’s good advice. But it’s the kind of advice that can get lost in its own… specialness.” She pouted, and then picked up a regulator from one of Tetra’s shelves. “Like regulators. You and I know what they do because we’re mechanics, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“But Aurun, even if he’s good with fixing things, he thinks he doesn’t know what a regulator does. Because when I try to explain it, I say that it modulates the frequency of electricity going into the system.” She shrugged, “Now technically that makes sense to me, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out how to say it so it made sense to him!”

“I mean… it just means that it makes sure the right amount of energy goes into an engine so it doesn’t overload or stall,” Anakin said, now oddly uncertain. That’s all it meant, right?

She smiled and waved her finger at him, in a gesture that looked remarkably like Tetra, “Exactly, kid! And when I tried to break it down like that for Aurun, he could understand. And all of a sudden, I understood it better too!”

“So… I should try to break down the Jedi code?”

She nodded, “It might help.”

He looked to the regulator in her hand still, and took it gently, rolling it around in his own hands for a moment. “It’s… sort of like this, isn’t it,” he whispered. “Not letting your emotions rule you doesn’t mean don’t feel them… it just means too much or too little, and you might explode or stall.”

Aebri smiled, bright and warm, “You’re a very good kid, from what I’ve seen. So as long as you don’t let your emotions be an excuse to do bad things, like break stuff or hurt yourself or others, you can feel as sad and angry as you want right now. Cause I’m sad and angry. None of this should have happened. But it did, and we made it through, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt.”

He was so overwhelmed, he almost felt like he was choking. He sniffed, trying to keep all that same anger and sadness inside him from coming out. But Aebri was right. It didn’t hurt to feel this way… only if he indulged in the bad impulses that came with it.

Instead of screaming, yelling, or breaking things, Anakin asked quietly, “Would it be alright… if I cried just now?”

Aebri nodded gently, and opened her arms, “Do you want a hug too?”

He stepped into her arms without another word, and the tears fell freely.

Obi Wan awoke some time later, he couldn’t be sure, sore and raw, but bandaged, and according to Aurun, completely on the mend.

He stood, shaky and dizzy still, but after a moment, it passed. Aurun had told him his arm would have to be in a sling for a few weeks, and Obi Wan had the passing thought that at least he wouldn’t have to be in a bacta tank, if even such a thing was available. A woozy step, and another more sturdy one, and he felt ready to try and leave the room.

Before he could even get to the door, it flung open, and Anakin leapt at him in glee.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he shouted, and Anakin did not pay attention.

Neither did Tetra, who raced in and wrapped the two of them up in her arms, weeping rather openly. He didn’t ever think he’d see something like that. Aebri walked in as well, and watched with a smile.

“I can’t believe you, you stupid Jedi bastard, going off and doing something as crazy and wonderful as that!” Tetra sobbed, squeezing much tighter than she should have physically had the strength for, and she was already plenty strong.

“Hey, I helped too,” Anakin said, not a note of dourness present. He was all smiles, laughter, and glee, and Tetra smooched him all over his face, leaning in to give Obi Wan one as well. Baffled, he took it, but the weight of affection all over him sent the three of them careening to the floor.

“OW!” He finally announced, and Tetra and Anakin scuttled off of him, and helped him up with an abundance of giggles. “Really, you two, you’d think I’d gone and died!”

“You practically did, you ignoramus! Where would we have been if you’d gone and done a thing like that?” Tetra said, smacking him, and Aebri finally stepped in.

“He’s not a hundred percent better, Mom, give him a little space.”

“The children… Sono and Seno. Are they alright?” he asked, adjusting his arm back into the sling gently. He would have liked to assume, with the happy reception he had just now, but worry itched at the back of his throat and pounded through his skull.

“Everyone is back in their homes, safe and sound. Including Sono and Seno. They’ve been over a few times, but they had to go home and finish their chores.”

“Imagine, making my boys do chores after such a frightening ordeal. Temuk’s always been a complete and total…”

“Tetra, you made me recatalogue the couplers just now. And sweep, and dust, and,” Anakin started, and Tetra simply grabbed him up in her arms, and gave him another big smooch on the head.

“How long have I been asleep?” Obi Wan said. “I couldn’t have been out that long.”

“Just a day and a half,” Tetra winked. “You didn’t miss the parade.”

“Parade?” he gulped. “Is there ah… A holiday?”

“You kidding? You just beat up and defeated every Iridonian kid’s worst nightmare!” Aebri said, as if she herself was one of the kid’s whose nightmare had been defeated. Relief, cocksuredness, and absolute wonder glowed amongst all of them, and he had to admit, it was particularly infectious. “A parade’s the least we can do!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takodana next chapter.
> 
> And all my personal favorite scum and villains too. ;)


	3. Wretched Scum and Villainy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple years down the line, Tetra Vurana takes the boys on a trip to Takodana. 
> 
> Meetings with Pirates and Bounty Hunters couldn't possibly go more wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My main goal in this fic is to provide ample opportunity for Meet Horrifically rather than Meet Cutes. I would like Cad Bane to remain Cool as Hell, since he is. However, like most Star Wars character, he is also A Loser Far Too Dedicated to Aesthetic. In this vein, I hope I present him well, and nobody's too mad that I make him go through what for him, I'm sure, is quite an embarrassing situation.

After that day, Tetra grew softer. Not soft, not by any means, but decidedly more easy going and generous to those in need. Rather than stealing out all the supplies so her competitors could not have them, she bought them to give them to those who needed them most. More than that though? Asking far too much. She trusted them completely now, having them deal with clients face to face, often on their own, while she handled the books and management. They had turned through the days into something more than just coworkers and cohabiters that were fond of one another. Tetra Vurana had become their family.

Their savings were returned to them, and a couple years along, they were just nearly there in their goal to save Shmi Skywalker. Beyond that, life had settled into an easy rhythm. Their transformation from Jedi to regular run-of-the-mill mechanics was fairly complete. Though they trained daily, meditated, and still utilized the force for every day means, they had discard all vestiges of their Temple robes. Their lightsabers still hung from their belts, but were now accompanied by blasters as well (another way in which Tetra had not gotten soft--she trusted them with her life, but told them not to trust anyone else, not in this wild galaxy!). Obi Wan had adopted a partially armored style, wearing refurbished vambraces and pauldrons on top of his looser coat, with a chest plate underneath. To the untrained eye, he looked like anyone else. To Anakin, he looked like an oddly overly casual Jedi. It was hard to shake, a fact which Anakin constantly teased him about.

Anakin, on the other hand, had completely taken to style. He tested out varieties of vests and jackets, trying to find himself in dapper leather boots, velvet capes and cloaks, goggles, caps, you name it. At the delicate age of 15, he was all worry and woe over what would look most impressive at any given moment, and what was the best mirror to the deep and impenetrable workings of his soul. The worst of it was that he sewed most of his clothes himself, so everything was at least two sizes too big on his much taller, but still scrawny person. Obi Wan tutted at him for vanity practically daily, but that didn’t stop Anakin from his experimenting.

Yes, they had settled into their new life surprisingly well. Every day was someplace new, but the routine was set in, and not much could shake them from it. Business was booming, and life was good.

Tetra had told Anakin to set course for Takodana. “We’ll be landing there, so get ready for that too, kiddo,” she said, hobbling along to her desk with the large stack of books to keep.

Obi Wan moved to help her, but she lifted the books over her head and stuck her tongue out at him, “I don’t need a gentleman, thank you,” she sighed, and he laughed.

“I thought you’d done all the bookkeeping for the month, Tetra?” he said, settling back at the worktable, finishing minor adjustments to his lightsaber. It had become a bit of a personal project for him, to try and experiment with improvements he’d been learning about from Anakin and Tetra’s greater experience with mechanics. His skills lied mostly with the Force, though he was not lost among tools. But he tried to apply himself more like his ex-Padawan, utilizing the instinct of the Force, but the feel of his hands more and more. So far, he’d managed to improve his lightsaber’s reaction time--it now ignited almost instantaneously, where before, there’d been a minor delay. He often wondered if he could one day take this study back to the Temple, not as Jedi, but as an interested citizen, help them become better in ways they had not seen. It was an idle fantasy, but one close to his heart.

“I’m just seeing what I’ve got, moving things around.”

“Got something big planned then?”

She winked at him coyly, pursing her lips and flipping her hair—a play at bashfulness, “Maybe, maybe not, what’s it to ya?”

He just chuckled and resumed his work on his lightsaber. His next experiment was trying to play with the intensity of the laser, and how it could change the effectiveness of the weapon, or even its effectiveness in defensive capabilities.

“Hey, how long are we in Takodana for?” Anakin called from the cockpit, “You think we could do a training session outside?”

“Oh, at the very least a couple of days, but maybe longer. You’re sure to get time out and about,” Tetra shrugged. “But be careful. It’s--”

“Crawling with lowlives and dirtbags,” Obi Wan and Anakin said with her, and she frowned.

“Well, it is.”

“Tetra, we’re crawling with lowlives and dirtbags! It’s not new,” Anakin sing-songed at her, bowing completely out of the cockpit before diving right back in.

Tetra hummed to herself, considering, “Maybe I can find you a sweetheart. I know, I know, Anakin, not you,” she said, ahead of Anakin’s protests.

Obi Wan kept his own to himself. He knew it was simply the past time of older folk, to press and prod into the lives of young people. Aebri had begun seeing Aurun of late, though they were both still young to be thinking of settling down, this left Obi Wan the sole object of Tetra’s bothering. He didn’t tell her about Satine, or about how his teachings with the Jedi still kept him wary of entertaining any such notions. He just let her have her harmless fun.

Besides, sweetheart troubles or no, it had been awhile since they had landed for a prolonged time. It would be nice to stretch out their limbs in the sun and explore someplace new.

Takodana was, to Anakin Skywalker, a complete delight. Flying over the green waving trees, swept asunder by their descent, watching the water below ripple, white cresting waves matching the pattern of the trees. And when they landed, seeing the great structure, covered in pirate flags, smuggler banners, and graffiti in every language in the galaxy, it was all he could do to not race around, choosing instead to put that energy into a bounce in his step.

Unabashed glee was written all over his face, and any other time, he might have been disappointed. But all the ships in the landing bay, and all the faces and people he passed by, it was just all too much to try and play it cool. Tetra laughed along with him as they walked, putting a calming hand on his shoulder only when they were almost through the door.

She pointed out interesting faces as they passed through, “That’s Ziro the Hutt. He frequents here, trying to get outta trouble with his fellow ganglords. Doesn’t stop him from slithering into it with everyone else. And that’s Embo, and his mangy mongrel. Damn thing nearly ate all my supplies one time. Oh, and over there is an interesting pair, but don’t get too close!” And on and on. Anakin had been continuing his practice of trying to memorize everyone’s faces, to get to know their clients well enough to anticipate their needs and desires (and whether or not they wanted to supply them), but it was a lot of information all at once, and he began to get dizzy with snapping his head back and forth to see it all.

“Tetra Vurana, my dear friend!” A voice, booming and powerful called out. The crowd parted, and a small, hunched over woman of an unknown species reached out to Tetra for a hug.

The two embraced, “Maz, my love, I have terrible news! I think you’re getting old!”

The smaller woman, Maz, smacked Tetra playfully, and guffawed, “I’m getting old? Look at you! At least my excuse is I’m almost a thousand years old!”

The laughter and chit chatting continued much longer than Anakin could pay attention to. He could feel himself already drifting away to explore the place, but Obi Wan grabbed him by the collar, and it was time to introduce themselves.

“Boys, this is the Queen of this place, the greatest being imaginable, Maz Kanata! Maz Kanata, these are my new mechanics. Best damned ones I ever had,” Tetra beamed at them, but Maz did something else entirely.

She looked.

The small orange woman leaned in towards Anakin much too close, her goggles lifting from her face mechanically, as her small eyes searched his face, and Obi Wan’s in turn. Under her scrutiny, he felt… exposed, dissected, but not bodily, no. Something very deep in him was laid out like a corpse before this woman, and picked apart. It felt like he had done something wrong, and couldn’t parse out what, until she smiled at him. But there wasn’t much friendliness in her eyes. She looked sad.

The look passed on just as quickly as it had happened, and Anakin glanced at Obi Wan to see if he felt much the same, but he was too taken up with the conversation Anakin barely heard.

“Anakin Skywalker, and Obi Wan Kenobi. Jedi amongst my ruffians. I’d say I didn’t think I’d see that again in my lifetime, but this is a haunt of your Quinlan Vos’s!” She gestured with her large head to a corner in the back, sunny and well lit by a large, enormous window. “Man comes to brood and picks the brightest spot in the room, you know he’s a show off.”

“We’re not Jedi, not anymore,” Obi Wan said, and the old bruise still wasn’t healed. Anakin looked anywhere but at him, choosing instead to watch a troop of Weequay pirates chase off a togruta man for cheating them at cards.

“I can see the heart of things. You can’t lie to old Maz,” she said, and Anakin eyed her suspiciously. She caught it, and wagged a finger at him, “Especially not you, Chosen One. The two of you are quite popular topics of discussion round here, you know.”

“Really? What’s the word?” Tetra looked uncharacteristically open in her worry. Unconsciously, she reached for Anakin, and he let her tug at his dark blue vest for a moment.

Maz shrugged, “I’d just be careful if I were you two. You don’t go stirring up any trouble while you’re here, alright? Use a fake name or something. Everybody else does!”

For a moment, the crew of the _Miss Reliable_ eyed the room, filled with pirates and bandits and outlaws, like it was bound to blow at any minute. Which could have easily been true among this crowd. But Maz quickly put an end to it, clasping her hand firmly on Tetra’s arm, the closest thing she could reach, “Now come! Tetra and I have business to discuss!”

Tetra nodded, woken from her anxious daze. She waved Obi Wan and Anakin off, “Go, have fun, drum up business, train, what have you! Just be careful!” And quick as a flash, the two women were swallowed back up by the crowd.

“Let's go find a private place outside, Anakin. We can go through the forms again,” Obi Wan was stiff as a board, his eyes roaming the bar like a feral lothcat trying to avoid capture. His face was pale, and he was sticking much too close.

Anakin had to shake him. There wouldn’t be any fun here if Obi Wan had his say, “Uh yeah, yeah, sure! I’m just gonna go… Find the refresher real quick!”

“Anakin,” Obi Wan had nearly a couple dozen tones with which he said Anakin’s name, and almost all of them were some variation of ‘concealed frustration and regret’. This one, Anakin lovingly referred to as ‘Resigned Acceptance’. He just had to assume that meant implicit approval!

“Sorry, it’s…,” he rolled his eyes, playing up his contrition, “It’s kind of an emergency, but I’ll be right out!”

“Remember at least to come up with a different name,” Obi Wan sighed, as Anakin began running off.

“Sure thing, Ben,” Anakin winked, and disappeared as well into the exciting mess that was Takodana.

The wave of bodies in this part of the cantina swayed with the beat of the cantina band’s trilling, flutey noise. A deep voiced alien sang throatily in Hutteese, and Anakin, not typically a fan of the genre, couldn’t help but get into the lyrics as he translated in his head.

 _Lost my speeder in sabaac_  
_Lost my my hat and shirt too_  
_I lost my woman to the winner_  
_And my will to live went too_  
_Sabaac you nasty game_  
_I’m gonna love you all the same_  


“Sabaac no wo sabitta,” he whispered, moving into a hallway, picking up the pace as he passed some lovers entwined in their business. A drunk rodian, unable to move away from the increasingly passionate display, finished the verse off for him.

“Sabaac wo dan douzooo,” the long last note sent the rodian into a fit of giggles that Anakin joined in. It was all a good fun joke here, he couldn’t help but note. Tragedy and comedy were one and the same, and losing a life’s worth of savings in a game of sabaac was just the standard. As it should be, he supposed, when you decided the law of the land no longer mattered to you. Might as well see your own misfortune as much of a joke as the rules that let you win all that money in the first place.

He quickly passed by into a sunny, bright terraced area, where larger parties gathered. These fellas seemed positively vulgar, throwing drinks, hooting and hollering at one another as they told loud, braggadocious stories. The entertainment out here was a bit more lively, more outlandish--half naked people swallowed and spit fire back out at one another, while others clambered onto one another to make elaborate, twisting pyramids. The music, lyric-less, was a pounding, consistent beat, fast and thumping straight through to his heart, making it beat off time, a strange and thrilling feeling. There were many different aliens here, but the majority of them were weequay, like the pirates he’d seen playing inside. In the center of all them was a man standing on the table, in a glorious, long red coat.

 _I gotta get a coat like that_ , Anakin thought, and quickly joined in the throng to watch, and observe.

“My friends, my friends, my friends,” the weequay in the red coat spoke, a heavy accent, and goggles covering his eyes. Rings dazzled along his fingers, and a horrible little kowakian monkey-lizard crawled along his shoulders, looking here and there as its owner spoke. It locked eyes with Anakin, and suddenly he froze.

“Don’t come over here,” he whispered, shaking his head, as the brightly colored little monster hopped down. He lost the thread of what was bound to be a great and austentatious speech as he moved to hide behind more others, attempting to avoid the lizard-monkey’s curious gaze. “Please, please, don’t come over here.”

It was no use. He’d never had any luck with communicating with animals through the force. The creature sidestepped wayward feet and falling drinks, coming to sit right in front of him, sniffing with great interest.

He panicked, patting all his pockets down for something to make the lizard-monkey leave him alone, but he had nothing on him, except a few credits to his name. “Look, see, I got nothing! I’m not interesting, go! I’m sure there’s… food on the ground for you! Go!”

But the lizard-monkey wasn’t about to take no for an answer. It hopped up, ready to land on some part of Anakin, but it wasn’t fast enough. Completely unconsciously, he shot the thing away with a quick blast of the force, and it flew right into a pile of boxes, breaking it all open.

The merriment died immediately. All eyes were on the boxes, and the dazed and confused monkey-lizard that poked its head out from their contents.

“Pilf?” The man in the red coat walked over casually inspecting the mess, charting the trajectory of how his monkey could have gotten from here to there, only to settle his eyes on Anakin.

“Oops,” he whispered, and tried to run, but several Weequay were already on him, pinning him in place, unless he wanted to really get into it. He considered, until the man in the red coat placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I would not do that, my boy. No fighting is one of the cardinal rules of Takodana. And I am much more important than you, so I will get a pass, and you will not.”

The man turned Anakin to face him, peering down at his face with intense scrutiny. Anakin’s mind was churning, desperate to think of a way out of this if need be. The pirate could have been bluffing. Maybe he’d be susceptible to a mind trick? But would that reveal too much of who he was? It might not matter, there’s no way that someone hadn’t seen his mildly concealed lightsaber. But it could easily have been confused for a blaster, maybe? He was supposed to be keeping a low profile. He sighed, allowing the inspection.

“What’s your name, kid?” The captain drawled, low and dangerous.

 _Think fast think fast think fast_ , he thought, but he didn’t really think at all. “Yoda,” he said, with a grimace.

“Yoda?”

“Mmhmm, one and only,” he was so toast.

The silence in the air felt like it would last forever, or at least until blaster fire shot out, and he was dead. Instead, it was cut by the pirate captain’s big, boisterous laughter.

“Well, Yoda, this is a party! And you are now the special guest of Captain Hondo Ohnaka, leader of the Ohnaka Gang!” The hand on Anakin’s shoulder clapped again, friendly this time, pulling him away from the crowd, “Tell me, have you ever wanted to be a pirate, Yoda?”

Anakin, unsure if any of this was real, couldn’t help but smile a little, bewildered, “Have I? I work with pirates all the time! I fixed some of your ships! I’m the new mechanic on the _Miss Reliable_!” Maybe that would help having thrown the monkey?

And it seemed to. Hondo laughed again, and dragged Anakin up onto a table, where he announced to all around, “Ah then you are a hero! Here boys, is the man who fixes our damned ships whenever we are in need! Drinks! Get our friend Yoda here a drink!”

 _Maybe this won’t be so bad!_ Anakin thought, laughing as he sipped his first taste of alcohol.

Obi Wan watched him go, the staticy crawl of anxiety creeping up every inch of him. There was no way Anakin was coming back to train, not when there was a whole new world to explore, with precisely the sort of exciting and fascinating individuals who’d sell him to Palpatine at the drop of a hat. If only Anakin understood why Obi Wan was so cautious. That had to be what Maz Kanata meant about needing to be careful, didn’t it? And yet, all the same, without even a drop of care, Anakin rushed in, caution to the wind.

 _At least one of us will have fun_ , he tried to force himself to see the bright side, but the dark, musty cantina had no brightsides for him. He could, as Tetra suggested, try to drum up work. But first he needed to collect himself, reassess the situation. He maneuvered through the crowd, kindly slipping the hands of a rather inebriated Twi’lek off of himself as he passed, and pressed through towards the other rooms. The cantina was massive. Twisting and turning like the inner workings of an insect nest, and each new room had new individuals to avoid. He dipped into one, a hallway with a number of storage rooms, and tried his hardest to not notice as a sullustan and an Ishi Tib attempted to break into one. Another hallway opened up into a room that smelled suffocatingly of perfume and spice. The ground was covered in puffed pillows and sleeping, and writhing bodies, that he politely stepped over, and ignored completely their requests to join in. The heat in his face had barely died down when he finally found another bar room, this one pleasantly devoid of most individuals. He was about to make his way to the bar, when a Nikto pushed him aside rather aggressively.

“Hey, do yourself a favor, don’t come in here.”

“What?” Obi Wan asked. There was no indication that this was a restricted space. There was only one other patron in there besides the bartender and this Nikto. “I was just… Looking for somewhere quiet.”

“Look elsewhere, bud, it’s not a smart day to come in here,” he almost looked worried, glancing back towards the bar with wide eyes.

“I fail to see why that would be,” he didn’t really need to be in here. But now, his curiosity was peaked. He shouldn’t have, and he hadn’t used it in years, but he discretely waved his hand and muttered, “You will let me come in here… And apologize for your behavior.”

It took a moment, but the Nikto’s face softened, and he moved aside, gesturing Obi Wan to a table, “Of course, I’ll let you come in here. I apologize for my behavior.”

“Why was this room otherwise off limits?” he couldn’t help but wonder. He waved a hand, just to be sure he’d get an answer.

“The man at the bar… He had a specific request, and paid a great deal to be on his own today. He’s going through--” A shot rang out, hitting the wall just beyond the Nikto’s head. The Nikto dashed off, and the bartender too, hiding as best he could behind his wares. Obi Wan turned to see the other patron holster his weapon, and hide it back behind his large coat.

A modulated voice, electronic, but also a little slurred from drink, sounded from the patron, “You a Jedi?”

His stomach fell, and he coughed, “Ah, no, no, just a mechanic. I was going to go back out and look for work, I just wanted to… Clear my head, is all.”

The patron turned on his seat to look more directly at Obi Wan. He was a blue duros, and his bright red eyes looked anything but amused. Danger radiated off of him in waves, and Obi Wan couldn’t help it, his stupid mouth opened before he could keep it closed.

“Why? Do I seem like a Jedi to you? You flatter me.”

One blue brow raised, and the duros’s eyes never left him. Obi Wan could have left, could have turned around and gone about his day with nary a care or a worry (well, at least a few), but instead, foolishly, instead, he met the stare head on, and raised one eyebrow in turn.

“Come,” the duros said, getting up, and heading towards the exit.

Obi Wan almost choked, “What?”

“I’m in need of a mechanic,” was all the explanation offered. Obi Wan looked to the bartender and the Nikto who both shook their heads in some sort of warning, but it didn’t look like Obi Wan had much of choice. The duros’s hand rested gently on his holster, a quiet, but unmistakable threat. Certainly, Obi Wan could get out of trouble if need be. But he’d rather keep trouble at bay for as long as possible, and they’d worked for characters as shady as this man. Possibly not quite as shady, but definitely close.

Obi Wan stood, and gestured politely, silently screaming at himself to stop whatever game he was playing to put this man on edge, “Lead the way.”

The duros huffed at that, but began walking, heading towards the outside landing docks. Obi Wan followed, observing the reactions of everyone they passed. A few brave souls watched the duros walk past, their eyes on him, but no reaction on their faces. _So he’s someone to watch for, be cautious of, even to fairly big name_ , Obi Wan thought as he spied Aurra Sing curl her fingers around a glass and watch them with vague interest. More often though, people tried to dart away as inconspicuously as possible. He heard some whispers from a couple of women, dressed clearly for the entertainment of the customers, “I hear he’s in a bad way.”

“Cad Bane? No way, he and Jango—.”

The girls stopped quite immediately as this Cad Bane looked back at them with one deadly glare. They scurried off, and he let them, swaying only slightly on the spot.

He couldn’t help it, he had to ask, “Are you alright?”

He did not receive a response. Cad Bane simply pressed forward towards his ship, and everyone else made way.

He had to wonder why they had never heard of nor encountered Cad Bane before. Jango Fett was one of their earlier customers, though he had not come back again. Tetra had often said that the bigger names really only come by if it’s something that’s truly an emergency, or something they can’t be bothered to deal with at that time. “You have to prove to them you’re worth the trouble, or they may as well just kill you and take the parts they need to fix it themselves,” she’d warned time and time again, the last time most notably with Aurra Sing, who spoke coldly to Tetra, but positively purred around Obi Wan.

Tetra had told him to just go with it, flirt a little back. It was not something Obi Wan really knew how to call up out of nowhere, but Anakin had laughed later that night and called him shameless. It was, if anything, a bad, unconscious habit.

Obi Wan intended to keep a lid on it today. He was worried he wouldn’t survive otherwise. That already wasn’t working too well so far.

They arrived at his ship, and Obi Wan, too stressed to really note what kind it was, only really noted that it was large enough that someone could live alone in there quite comfortably. Multiple someone’s could even house themselves inside, perhaps more cramped, but definitely feasible.

Cad Bane set about opening the hatch, and Obi Wan smiled, willing himself to not speak and failing miserably, “Nice ship.”

The duros bounty hunter barely acknowledged that, as the hatch opened, and he hopped inside before the hatch had fully lowered. Obi Wan wondered if he’d been forgotten, until a voice yelled from inside, “You need an invitation? Get in!”

He sighed, and slipped inside, feeling half as if this were a trap and half mildly annoyed. As he walked through to the main hold, Cad Bane had already pulled a flask out from somewhere and stood, drinking the entirety of its contents before throwing it far, and reaching for another. Drunk customers were never pleasant to deal with.

After he’d polished off the second flask, and produced a third, Bane gestured for Obi Wan to follow again, leading them into a small control room, clearly housing the breakers for the ship. It was completely trashed, but almost in a calculated way. All the interior power was left alone, as well as landing gear, and air control, but it looked like the first few shots were an attempt at taking out the engine controls, instead hitting the power for the central computers and navigational systems. Obi Wan followed the trail of blaster fire out into the cockpit, where it ended, right at the port for the airlock. The whole place was in shambles. The seats were torn out, the wheel fried, the comm system pulled out from its casing and sticking out of the airlock door instead. Blood splattered everywhere, and it was now, as the duros walked passed him to take in the sight of it all himself, that Obi Wan noticed a hint of bandaging under his collar.

“Must’ve been quite the fight,” he said, trying to decide where he’d even begin to start fixing all this.

“Not here,” Bane groaned, kicking aside some fallen panels that Obi Wan recognized as the ship’s artificial gravity.

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t have questioned, that was always considered bad form by Tetra. The client knew what they needed fixed, and they should not help anymore than that. But in this state, the ship was barely flyable. Surely once this character sobered up, he’d want to leave right away.

Bane shrugged, “It looks worse than it is.”

Obi Wan must have made a face, a hard thing to control when all he could do was doubt: it looked very bad. Terrible, in fact. But as soon as he made that face, he was dragged by the collar to the real source of the problem.

Far in the corner of the ship was the hyperdrive. And it was absolutely fried to oblivion and back.

“You can fix it?” Bane said, or tried to. He took another swig of his third flask, and Obi Wan almost felt inclined to reach out to keep him from falling over.

There was a high likelihood that this ship needed a new hyperdrive altogether. There was a high likelihood that a new ship altogether would be better than trying to fix this mess. But that didn’t seem like the answer his client was looking for, and he doubted he’d be allowed to leave and fetch a new hyperdrive from the _Miss Reliable_.

Still, he could do it. Anakin could do it better, but he wasn’t about to tell this bounty hunter anything about him. “Yes, I can fix it. It’s… Going to be expensive though,” he started, but Bane just slid down the wall, and sat, his hat covering his face.

“Good. Do it.”

He paused. It was almost as if the bounty hunter had gone to sleep.

“You don’t… Have to stay and watch, I can manage just fine, if you… Have other needs to attend to.”

He lifted his hat ever so slightly to reveal his large, red eyes, glaring underneath the brim.

Obi Wan knew a losing battle when he saw one. “Suit yourself,” he shrugged and set about to opening the hyperdrive’s core.

The latch came undone easily. This particular ship’s model had a small enclosure where most of the wiring could be reached from, just large enough to bend down and sit under without having to lay completely. It was a vulnerable position should he do anything wrong to anger his clearly trigger happy client, but Obi Wan tried to keep one hand on the front of the enclosure as often as possible, a mere gesture away from his lightsaber, in the event of customer dissatisfaction.

The wiring inside the mechanism was mostly melted from blaster fire. This was going to require a great deal of rebuilding, and possibly day’s work the regular way. So he took his chances, and brought his tools inside the enclosure, out of sight, only to begin using the force instead.

Almost half an hour passed in silence. Progress was quick with the force.

When Bane spoke again, Obi Wan almost hit his head in surprise, not from the sound, but from someone kicking at his lightsaber, “So where’d you get this if you’re Not a Jedi?”

Obi Wan pulled out from the enclosure to glare down at the boot pressing against his leg. It slid away, pulled back up against Bane, who laughed unpleasantly, “Those are pretty hard to steal. I should know. I’ve fought enough Jedi in my time.”

He’d heard that there were some bounty hunters who tried to make a name for themselves as expert Jedi hunters, but only a few could really claim the actual skill to do so. The thought that he was sitting across from one such individual left a sour taste in his mouth.

“I’m not a Jedi,” Obi Wan repeated, turning back to his work, only to be kicked again.

“Say I believe you. Where’d you steal it? Who from?”

“That’s dangerous, you know. You could set it off,” he said, trying to deflect.

The bounty hunter seemed to be aware of that, and kicked lightly again, “I know.”

The kick lingered. And suddenly, a whole different game was being played. Obi Wan shuffled his lightsaber away, and adjusted his position to be further in the enclosure. His face felt hot, and being so close to the exposed wiring wasn’t cooling, but it was better than having to navigate _that_.

“Do you want your hyperdrive fixed or not?” he snapped, and Cad Bane laughed again.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I stole it off some shipment to a Hutt,” he said, thinking grimly of all the Jedi artifacts that indeed were likely in possession of the Hutts. “Thought it keep me safe, in this line of work.”

“You can lie better than that,” Obi Wan was sorely tempted to try a mind trick and leave it at that. He seemed too clever for it, but he was drunk.

 _Focus_ , he told himself. _Just fix the damn thing and leave _.__

__  
_ _

“My father was a Jedi,” he said. It wasn’t technically untrue, if he thought of Qui Gon.

“Jedi can’t have children,” Bane snapped back, “Except that Cerean. Probably hurts, don’t it? Knowing that one guy gets to bend the rules.”

He was baiting him, Obi Wan knew. But why? Did he know about Anakin? Were there really bounties out on their heads? And if there were, why trap him like this first instead of just capturing them?

“Perhaps my father was a frequent rule breaker.”

“Perhaps,” he agreed, a surprising air of pleasantness in the word. It quickly turned sour, “Except I hear word that Tetra Vurana has snatched herself up a couple of Jedi mechanics. That they’re on planet for a little rendezvous with Maz. And I happen to spy the only mechanic dumb enough to enter my private room I’d already paid for, and he does it with a wave of his hand.”

Obi Wan stilled, hand over his lightsaber. He cringed as he was forcibly pulled out from the enclosure, face to face now with the bounty hunter, his breath reeking of alcohol, and his eyes shining with anger.

“Who are you, Jedi?” Bane hissed. His grip was strong on Obi Wan’s legs, surprisingly so for how inebriated he was. While he certainly could put up a fight, a sudden dawning realization occurred to Obi Wan. And it was likely a stupid tool to bring to this fight, but if he played it well, it likely would get the duros off his back. _In more ways than one_ , he thought, intensely aware of how close they were.

“Jango Fett did all this, didn’t he?” It was done. Bane clearly was capable enough that if he wasn’t drunk, no one would see his tell. But in his current state, his eye twitched, and he swallowed, stunned into silence.

He let Obi Wan go and leaned back on the wall with a snarl. It almost made Obi Wan laugh.

“There’s no need for pouting. If you’re going to ask personal, probing questions of me, surely I’m allowed to as well.”

He just watched Obi Wan as he resumed his work.

Again, blissful silence. He’d almost completely fixed the wires. Next would just be to reattach them.

He wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he never was, “What happened?”

“He broke a deal,” bitterness dripped off every word. “...I don’t take kindly to broken deals.”

“So you did all this?”

“Some,” Bane growled. “He did the rest. Said I needed to cool off.”

The damage made sense now. All the major systems needed for comfortable flight were damaged. If he fixed the hyperdrive, Bane could leave, but it’d be a less than ideal trip. Even dangerous. He didn’t seem to care.

“I’m sorry,” Obi Wan said softly, and Bane kicked the grating he was working behind hard, sending ringing through his ears.

“I don’t need your sorries,” his voice was raised, but he didn’t do more than sit there, arms crossed, and eyes looking ahead at nothing. “Just fix the damn thing.”

“Of course you don’t. My mistake…” he paused. “Are you going after him?”

Bane snorted, “I’m not pathetic. I got my pride.”

The wires were reconnected, power was running smoothly through the system once again. It wasn’t easy to test it while landed, but early diagnostics looked good. Obi Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully, before exiting the enclosure and sitting across from the bounty hunter.

“So you hunt Jedi,” he asked plainly, and the duros turned his attention back to him, and nodded. “It would be foolish to tell you whether or not I was one.”

He stood, and offered his hand. Bane did not accept, so he just coughed and shrugged, “But seeing as I just fixed your melted hyperdrive in record time, I suppose it would be even more foolish to continue attempting to lie. Is that a problem?”

“You gonna overcharge me?” Bane said, and Obi Wan couldn’t tell if he was bored or trying to joke.

“I never would dream of it,” he smiled.

The bounty hunter got up slowly, and tossed Obi Wan a bag of credits. “Take what you need then. We’re finished here.”

Obi Wan was about to, when the familiar voice of Tetra Vurana shouted from the hatch, “Ben! Ben! Come quickly, kid’s in a mighty heap of trouble!”

_It's interesting how little alcohol affected one’s abilities with the Force_ , Anakin thought in passing, as he entertained his new crew by juggling a couple of twi’lek dancers high into the air and letting them down safely.

It was interesting too how the lack of restraint let him do a lot of things comfortably that he’d otherwise complain about or scoff at. He stood, not just on his hand, but on the tip of one finger, for nearly an hour, passing the time telling back the dirty jokes Hondo Ohnaka’s crew taught him. He talked freely and with great comprehension and eloquence, with Pilf Mukmuk, the lizard-monkey, after profusely apologizing. He gossiped about what little he knew of Jedi interrelationships to the Captain specifically, who greatly enjoyed the tales of the secret flirtations Jedi didn’t think the younglings took note of. He even managed to show them all how to tell if Jedis were trying to mind trick you, and how best to brace yourself when pushed by the force. In return, Hondo was a very, incredibly gracious host! He fed Anakin some of the best roast he’d ever had in his life, and sweet, tangy drinks that kept him at a pleasant and electrifying buzz. He even taught Anakin how best to win over his Angel!

“Charm is the greatest weapon we have in this galaxy, my friend!” Hondo gestured to a lovely young Theelin, and she bounded over. “You want to ravish their defenses with a dashing smile!” He demonstrated, and the Theelin rolled her eyes, playfully. “The quick kiss of a gentleman!” The woman offered her pink hand, and Hondo bent low to kiss it gently. She giggled. “A good line!” He shot a wink at Anakin before whispering something filthy, loud enough for the crew around to hear and cheer bawdily, but Anakin missed it, leaning desperately close just to try and catch a little. “And the deep kiss of a rogue!” Hondo dipped the Theelin into his arms, capturing her lips with his, as the crowd around them hooted and hollered. It seemed a very long time until they stood back up, turned to Anakin, and bowed, receiving an enormous round of applause for their performance.

The Theelin left with another pirate, as Hondo grasped Anakin by the shoulders, laughing. He seemed to laugh a lot, “That, my dear Yoda, works for just about anybody! Boys, girls,” he waggled his brows and whispered low, “Angels!”

“I don’t,” he hiccuped. The only bad part of alcohol was how surprised you could be by everything. He tried to turn his head and things spun, and he tried to speak, and words ran together. He frowned, and tried again, “I don’t know, Hondo. My angel, she’s very… classy! She’s very important, I don’t know if I’d even be allowed to do all that!”

“Pfft!” Hondo waved his hands, “The only person who can allow such things to happen is the object of your desire! Does your angel want to be swept off her wings? Then you can certainly do so! Who cares if she is… what? A Jedi?”

He shook his head.

“An important merchant's daughter? I’ve dealt with _that_ before, let me tell you!”

Anakin shook his head again, smiling. This was a fun game.

Hondo eyed him carefully, “A noble?”

Anakin laughed, “She’s the Queen! Or was. I don’t know how Queens work on Naboo…”

The pirate captain’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe we should take you to her, then? Try it out, no? We must chase our dreams at every opportunity! And we must make our own opportunities!”

“Wait, really?”

“Come, Ana—Yoda!” Another wink, as they both stood, Anakin putting his fist on his hip and his hand in the air, pointing to the sky, just like Hondo. “We will find this Angel of yours, and we will make her your woman! To Naboo, you scoundrels! To Naboo!”

A cheer roared through the crew, and Anakin was so intoxicated by the energy of it, he hopped to, happily helping ready the ship for take off.

Everything seemed to be going really great! Anakin even loved Hondo’s plan to make Padme sad for him by tying him up as a prisoner, before daringly escaping. He sat, tied up, and humming the Sabaac song happily to himself, the world whizzing very quickly by around him, while the rest of the crew packed up, and Hondo bossed them all around. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tetra and Obi Wan racing towards him, followed a ways behind by some guy in a stupid hat, and a small, curious crowd. He pulled his hand out of the bindings and waved.

“Hey, hey! How are you guys? I’ve been having so much fun with my new friends! I think, I think, I think,” he swallowed, suddenly a bit nauseous. “Oh, that’s not… hmmm. But I’m gonna be a pirate now. Hondo says. We’re going to Naboo!”

“You absolutely are not, kid, now get the hell down” Tetra yelled, and he giggled.

“I can’t, I’m gonna be in the cargo hold, all tied up, so I can dashingly escape and impress Padme!”

“Who the hell is Padme?” Tetra said, and Obi Wan stepped forward, climbing up the boxes, already grumbling. _Ugh. Spoilsport._

“Anakin, stop this now,” his nose wrinkled as he got closer. “Are you drunk?”

“I’m learning how to be a pirate,” he explained. It was a very good explanation in his mind.

The crew surrounded them suddenly, and Hondo stepped up behind him, glaring down at Obi Wan.

“I’d advise against that, my friend. You shouldn’t steal from pirates.”

Obi Wan stood, glaring right back. They were of height with one another, but Hondo stood on the box behind Anakin, giving him a slight advantage. “You are kidnapping him. Let him go, or I’ll be forced to act.”

Hondo and his whole crew laughed at that, “‘Or I’ll be forced to act!’ That, that is a line, my friend! But did you not know? Nonviolence is Maz’s most important and only rule! So what are you going to do?”

Obi Wan looked to Tetra for confirmation, who sadly gave it. “No fighting, that’s Maz’s one rule.” Obi Wan sighed.

“Surely kidnapping a child,” Obi Wan started, but Hondo wagged a finger in his face.

“Ah ah ah! No, no, no, I recruited this boy fair and square! Sure, am I going to take up the rumor that someone on Naboo will pay handsomely for the boy when we get there? Absolutely! But trickery is completely fine on Takodana! I have not broken a rule!”

Only every other sentence was really clicking with Anakin. Someone would pay… For him? Like a wage, cause he was a recruit? Or was something bad happening…? Obi Wan did not seem pleased either way. Instead his face paled. Anakin was beginning to feel a bit dizzy himself.

“You can’t take him,” Obi Wan grabbed Anakin’s restraints, and the crew grew closer.

“What are you going to do about it, Jedi? Aren’t you all about rules?” Hondo’s voice was low, almost scary. That nausea was coming back to Anakin something fierce.

A gasp sounded throughout the crowd. Anakin looked, and saw something he realized he hadn’t really noticed at all here on Takodana.

A blaster, pointed right above him, straight at Hondo’s face.

Hondo just smiled, “You trying to take my score, Bane?”

It was the guy with the stupid hat. The rest of him looked pretty stupid to Anakin too. The coat was dirty, the boots scuffed, and the duros was swaying a bit unconvincingly. But he had to admit, the moment he looked into his eyes, the Force sent a chill through him. Here was a man who was always ready to kill.

“You really trusting rumors, Ohnaka?” The duros slurred.

“What is your stake in this fight, hm? Why the sudden interest? This is hardly like the great Cad Bane.”

Obi Wan was watching the two of them carefully, but especially the duros. Nobody seemed to move a muscle, except Hondo. He was all smiles, all easygoing and relaxed. _He was so cool_ , Anakin thought with a hiccup.

The duros snarled, but didn’t say anything. Hondo’s eyes twinkled at that, and he began to pace, the duros’s blaster never drifting far from him.

“You know, my friend, I did hear, and this is so funny the timing of it all, really… But I did hear a very, very interesting rumor,” Hondo hissed this last part, and the air around them seemed to spark, “about you.”

The duros swayed, probably as drunk as Anakin, but his face betrayed no emotion. Hondo continued.

“You see, everyone knew—I mean EVERYONE KNEW, it was very well broadcasted, I’m sure even my dearly departed mother—may her vicious bloodthirsty soul never get what she deserves—somehow she knew… that the great bounty hunting team of Jango Fett and Cad Bane had ended its run some time back,” he paused, shrugging. “About four or five years ago, no? So this is old news! _Everyone_ knows!”

“Watch it,” the duros said, under his breath, his muscles tensing. Anakin sobered quickly, feeling the intention in the Force.

“Which is the funny part, yes? Because the rumor I hear, my dear Cad Bane, is that,” Hondo chuckled. “You only _just_ found that out.”

Whatever had sparked, ignited. One of the crew had been coming up behind Obi Wan to attack, and in the blink of an eye, he was shot. Obi Wan only realized after as the body crumpled against him what had happened, but it was too late. Cad Bane was on the move.

Drunk though he might’ve been, he moved swiftly towards Hondo, as the pirate captain raced back to his ship through his crew, each of them trying to block the path of the bounty hunter, and each of them failing. He didn’t kill all of them, but he made sure it hurt when you went down.

Obi Wan grabbed Anakin, and pulled him down to Tetra. They tried to make their way through the increasingly large crowd of onlookers, but there were too many, to pressed together, pushing up against one another, both to run and to get a better look at the violence breaking out around them. Blaster fire sounded, and the smell of it knocked the wind out of Anakin, and he wretched as Tetra tried to pull them away.

When he looked back, 10 men were definitely dead, smoke drifting off of their bodies, lazing in the sunlight of Takodana. They almost looked as lazy and merry as they had been before, if he didn’t look too close. The bounty hunter rocketed off of one pirate, shooting towards Hondo, who rolled away just in time to avoid collision, but came up too close.

Cad Bane was nearly at Hondo’s neck, when a loud, booming voice shouted through the crowd.

“Cad Bane!” Maz Kanata appeared at the front of the crowd, making her way through the remaining pirate crew as they tried to collect themselves.

The most amazing thing of all was that Bane and Hondo stopped moving entirely once Maz Kanata spoke, and they moved apart from each other to face her as she approached them.

“Get off my planet,” she snapped, pointing her finger towards the horizon. “And never come back.”

Bane snarled at her, and gave her a mock bow, “I was just leaving.”

No more was said as they watched the bounty hunter push passed Hondo, towards the crowd, which instantly parted, not wanting to stick around for either Bane’s fury or Maz’s punishment. The fire in the air was still electrifying all their senses, the smoke from the blasters barely cleared, and yet, it was over, just like that. Anakin wasn't sure if it was the remnants of the alcohol or the battle, but the effect Maz had was certainly dizzying.

Obi Wan, however, did not pay attention to wide berth given to Bane, reaching out and grabbing the bounty hunter’s shoulder as he passed them by, “Are you going to be al—.”

Cad Bane knocked his hand away, giving Obi Wan once last glare before leaving. Anakin was disturbed to see Obi Wan watching the man walk away with something like concern in his eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, sticking his tongue out.

Obi Wan’s face turned lightly red, “What? Don't do that!”

“What are you doing?” Anakin shouted, even more disturbed to see his old master _blush_. He'd meant just to tease, not anticipating any reaction other than an eye roll.

“What are you doing?” he shouted back, “Galavanting with pirates, getting yourself kidnapped!”He was reacting a lot! This was huge! 

They could have gone on, Anakin ready with a thousand questions and jeers, but Tetra hushed them both with a quick smack.

“What the hell are you both doing? I can understand Hondo, bastard’s as slippery and charming as they come, Maker knows, but Cad Bane, dear?” she shook her head and Anakin had to laugh as Obi Wan sputtered.

“What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything, I just fixed his ship!”

“Kiddo, I’ve ‘fixed’ a lot of their ships in my day. It’s always a mistake.”

“What does _that_ mean?!” Anakin and Obi Wan said simultaneously, Anakin laughing hysterically at the notion…

Well, at least until his head started to spin and his stomach lurched.

“Oh no,” he moaned, and hurled.

“Serves you right,” Obi Wan whispered, as Anakin tried to find a comfy spot of grass to lay forever on.

Tetra was set to confine them all for the remainder of the trip to a small set of rooms Maz had offered her. They’d dragged Anakin there, still tied up for the most part, whining the whole way of his upset stomach, and his aching head. He’d earned it, as far as Obi Wan was concerned, worrying them all like that. But for some reason, Obi Wan was in similar trouble. Something about confusing dashing rogues and heartless killers, he really wasn’t listening, at least to this point. He was quite confident in his ability to discern the intentions of others, and this notion Anakin and Tetra had in their heads that he’d done anything but his job was beginning to grate on him. At no point had he been flirting with killers!

At least, not _intentionally_. It was a survival technique. That’s all. That’s all!

Still, a part of him he was trying to quiet was wondering what would become of the bounty hunter. It was a rather low stakes situation in his mind. An embarrassing one, to be certain, but nothing worth the display of violence that went on after. Tetra’s full raving of _dangerous chaotic misanthropic deadly heartless killers_ rang true to Obi Wan. This whole place was filled with such scum and villainy. And yet… He still wondered.

A point Tetra was certainly not done berating him about. When they finally got to the rooms, Tetra set off on a rant to end all rants about their collective foolishness. How she’d taught the two of them better than this these past few years. How she’d expected more sense and less folly from two Jedi, even ex-Jedi.

All in all, he couldn’t help but agree, until she reached her final point.

“And to think, I was getting ready to retire and settle down, and give you boys the business!”

Anakin sat up from his moping on the floor, jaw hung open, aghast, “What?!”

“You’re retiring, Tetra?” Obi Wan asked, looking for confirmation.

Tetra’s eyes went wide, and her tan face blushed. She waved her hands and shook her head, resuming her pacing, “I mean, there’s no point to it now, there’s no sense in it, who’ll look after you two, with bounties popping up like no one’s business, and, and danger lurking in every corner, I’ve clearly got much left to teach you, I can’t go leaving you now!”

Obi Wan stood, crossing towards her, to touch her arm gently. “Tetra,” he said, softly, and she sighed, her whole body collapsing away her tension.

“I’ve been saving, like you boys have. I told you, before, when you first met my family, that I’d been planning this for so long. And before I met you two, I never thought I’d get there… But now, I have enough,” she nodded towards the outside. “Maz was helping me out. She’s good like that. Promised me a cushy building here on Takodana. I can open up my own mechanics shop here, and live here, and not have to travel around. I could afford to have my family stay with me, or at the very least visit more often. But…”

“No buts, Tetra, you have to!” Anakin stood, his restraints finally falling from him. It was a serious moment, but Obi Wan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how easy that was. “This is what you’ve been working towards for years! You can’t give that up!” He added, quietly, his eyes lit up with passion, and his voice thick with emotion, “I’m not giving up my mother for anything. So you can’t give up this.”

Tetra sniffed, touched, but still stern, “And what of you two? What’ll you do without me?”

“Are you kicking us off the ship?” Anakin asked, and she seemed surprised.

“Didn’t I say? I thought I… I’m giving you both the _Miss Reliable_! There’s no way I wouldn’t!”

“Then we’re in business together still!” Anakin bounced, hopping over to shake Tetra’s hands as she laughed.

“Tetra, that is very generous, but,” they couldn’t take her ship. They’d have to make their own way, but they couldn’t impose on her like that.

Tetra shushed Obi Wan before he could continue, as Anakin kept ranting his naive plans, “This will be perfect! We’ll be the traveling version of your business, send you a percentage, of course, to maintain the shop here! It can be a home base of sorts!”

“Anakin, we can’t invite ourselves over.”

“Damn, kid, you invited yourselves into my ship all those years ago, what’s stopping you now?” She teased, lightly bumping Obi Wan at the hip.

“It’s too much, you deserve your privacy!”

“Well, I’m anticipating having my family over and you dolt-headed boys are my family, so why aren’t you coming over?” She howled, crossing her arms in play fury.

Anakin beamed.

Obi Wan, for his part, felt an odd warmth inside his soul he hadn’t quite ever felt before.

“I think this is a perfect plan, Tetra!” Anakin said, dancing her around the room. She cackled her one of a kind laugh, shooting throughout the room like a rocket, echoing Anakin’s boundless, joyful sentiment.

“Seems pretty damned perfect to me, but whose keeping you goofs outta trouble?”

“Trouble tends to find Anakin and I no matter what,” Obi Wan said, a laugh coming upon him unbidden, but not unwanted. He had to sit down, and watch as his two dear friends laughed and whooped and hollered and danced around the room, hardly hearing him, and planning all sorts of grand and big ideas for the future.

 _The future_. The Jedi did not plan for such things, not really. It was, all in all, a foreign and strange concept to Obi Wan still. But moment by moment, Anakin and he were doing much more than surviving. They could make this work. And they wouldn’t be entirely on their own. Tetra would insist they visit often, and probably do a multitude of errands for her in the interim. And as long as he drew breath, he still intended to help Anakin save his mother.

Trouble indeed tended to find them, but all thoughts of it left their minds now. Whatever came their way, they were still force users, and still cleverer than most.

The two of them… the three of them. They were a family, and they were going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration from this chapter had already hit, but I needed a reason for Cad Bane to be sad since timeline-wise, Boba is already born, and I couldn't imagine he'd be terribly interested in helping with that situation. The reason was thusly inspired by a well timed Parks and Recreation rewatch. 
> 
> Cad Bane could obviously be sad about the Jango Fett break up four years later---if due to his intense dedication to Aesthetic, he didn't even bother to confirm if he and Jango Fett had even broken up! 4 years ago, Jango's like "Hey I'm gonna have a kid" and Bane's like "Heh, good luck with that!" which of course, a reasonable person would be like "sounds kinda like a break up to me if you don't want to be involved in me and my kid's life!". I dunno how you don't check in for four years, but overall, Emotional Intelligence is Not part of the bounty hunter Look. Obviously, something I and Hondo Ohnaka would not be able to not make fun of.
> 
> Next bits are much more episodic!


	4. Kyber in the Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After rescuing Shmi Skywalker from Tatooine, life gets a little more hectic for the Miss Reliable family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this month's been crazy, and I haven't really been up to writing all the time as a result, but I did a little bit when I could, and today is my birthday, and I really wanted to get to post this finally! I hope that you are all well, and managing okay in the midst of all this. And I hope too that this little bit of silliness will bring a little cheer to you. ;)

**Chapter Four: Kyber in the Rough**

Their initial plan had been to steer on the side of caution. Work within the system to save his mother, go in and go out and leave Tatooine behind forever.

As far as plans go, at least they were certain to never return to Tatooine or Nal Hutta space again. They had freed Shmi, and in the ensuing chaos, ensured Mos Espa would never again fall under Hutt control or the slave trade. Anakin was afraid that the riot they’d caused would have sent Obi Wan spiraling, but…

He’d never seen him look so alive. 

And to be honest, Anakin had never felt so alive either. If they could have done the entirety of the Outer Rim, he very much believed they could have. But they were still only two lowly mechanics (even if they were ex-Jedi), and now they were two lowly mechanics firmly laying low until the heat died down.

But Shmi was free, and they were happy, and alive, and a family, and that was all Anakin could ask for.

But lying low was an expensive venture. They couldn’t really plop down on a planet and wait it out--Anakin and Obi Wan possibly could have. In the month after Tetra had retired on Takodana, and Hondo Ohnaka had tried to kidnap Anakin, they had. They had found some musty, Outer Rim swamp planet, where they stayed, hidden, doing odd jobs for the locals to save up the final price necessary to save Shmi. After the disaster that had been Mos Espa though, that price went firmly into repairing the  _ Miss Reliable _ from heavy blaster fire. What little they had left, Anakin had wanted to use for an apartment Shmi could be safe in: somewhere nice, but not too nice, law-abiding, and in Republic space. Unfortunately, as Obi Wan and Shmi had been telling him for the past few weeks, life was much more expensive in Republic space than the outer rim.  _ And  _ they were wanted both in Republic Space and the Outer Rim. On top of  _ that, _ the constant running and dashing from every two-bit merc and bounty hunter that had their eyes, not only on Anakin now, but Obi Wan as well, was running all their resources quite low, and repairs for the  _ Miss _ were quickly stacking up.

It was time to pick up work again. But Obi Wan wasn’t having it. 

“Palpatine wants your head, and the Hutts want both of ours, Anakin,” Obi Wan hit his head as he came up from under their ship’s regulators, trying to adjust them to lower power needs. He was in a dangerously foul mood.

“Are you alright?” Shmi asked, kneeling down to examine him, and though Obi Wan was used to being the one who mothered, being mothered was an entirely new concept to him. His anger dissipated, and he nodded, awkwardly, trying to escape out from under Shmi’s watchful gaze. 

“I’m fine, thank you, ma’am,” he said, trying to speak at a normal volume, but whispering in that awkward way he’d adopted ever since Shmi arrived onboard. Shmi had told Anakin that it was silly, but sweet, but Anakin couldn’t help it. It was annoying. Just like this whole hiding out situation was steadily becoming. 

Anakin rolled his eyes, tapping his foot to keep from bouncing off the walls like he wanted to, “We’re good at getting out of things! We just have to prove we’re more trouble than the bounties are worth!”

“Well, then they double the bounties, Anakin,” Shmi said plainly, and they both looked to her in surprise. “I do know how these things work.”

“Well, then we have to work under the same principle, Mom!” Anakin paced forward, “High risk, high reward! If we prove we’re an invaluable asset to these guys, that reward’s gotta get pretty high, yeah? And that might end up being not worth it to the bad guys after us! Isn’t that what Tetra taught us?”

“Well, to be honest, I have no idea what Tetra would do, and I fear contacting her to ask would put her in danger as well, but I’m fairly certain that both parties of ‘bad guys’ have a near infinite amount of credits,” Obi Wan sighed.

“And we don’t,” Anakin added for him, smirking. 

Obi Wan simply glared. Shmi sighed. “There isn’t really any reason for me not to stay on the ship with the two of you,” she began, and it was Anakin’s turn to be annoyed.

“What? Mom, no, we aren’t going to leave you in danger here!”

“Danger lurks everywhere, Anakin, and you didn’t let me finish,” she gave him a pointed look. Anakin wondered if everyone everywhere forever would look at him like that--stern and stubborn. “I agree with you. We all need credits, to keep us safe, and to keep the  _ Miss Reliable  _ in the air. It simply doesn’t make sense to stall all of your hard work just to dodge something that will happen anyway.”

He blinked. He wasn’t really anticipating anyone agreeing with him. Obi Wan didn’t seem to be anticipating it either, and looked ready to protest, but Shmi continued, “The only problem I see is how are you going to go about proving your worth as mechanics rather than as bounties? You’re talented, yes, but… It could be exhausting to keep fighting back until they get the hint. You’re only two people.”

“We’re two jedi, though,” Anakin said proudly, and Obi Wan swiftly cut him off.

“Ex-Jedi,” he grumbled, though he seemed to be coming around.

“Even so! We’ve been thorns in peoples’ sides before, Obi Wan. We can certainly do it again, easily!”

“It’s not sustainable,” he shook his head, but Shmi patted his shoulder gently, and Anakin too, grabbed the other and gave it a squeeze.

“But we gotta try, right?” It took a minute, but finally Obi Wan smiled at the two of them and nodded. Anakin returned the smile, and shrugged, “Besides, we’ll come up with something better if we have to!”

  
  


Obi Wan couldn’t help but have an overwhelming, horribly bad feeling about all this. They were attempting this ‘Thorn in Peoples’ Sides’ strategy to its full extent. They resumed business as it had been before Tetra’s retirement, and their escapade on Mos Espa. It picked up as if they had never gone into hiding. Merchants, pilots, smugglers, they came and went without issue. At first, they managed to avoid the mercs and hunters that came their way. Being slippery was the ideal way to deal with still working and simultaneously avoiding capture in Obi Wan’s mind. Anakin disagreed. He disagreed so strongly that he began to court those same bounty hunters hunting them directly, rather than taking on any other more sane choice.

Bounty Hunters weren’t an unusual addition to their clientele. The lower level ones and the more average performers often stopped by the  _ Miss Reliable  _ for repairs, too busy honing their skills at their trade to work on outside skills. The bigger names rarely stopped by. They could fix their own machines typically, and if they did make a stop, it was out of curiosity, looking for a part they might need (and the  _ Miss Reliable  _ always had!), or else they could not be bothered on that particular day to think about repairs. Not so surprisingly, with Anakin’s pestering, and the lure of a big prize on the horizon, recently many bounty hunters found a lot wrong with their ships that they couldn’t be bothered to fix themselves.

Being a thorn in the side of bounty hunters was one thing. Obi Wan certainly could have handled them dashing about and being too difficult to catch. But Anakin always preferred the direct approach. Of course, that put Anakin constantly in danger.

First, was Aurra Sing, who didn’t play games and ask for any help--she simply tried to drag their whole ship behind her toward wherever they were to secret Anakin away to. Once in hyperspace, Anakin severed the connection between the ships rather abruptly with a couple quick and effective shots of the  _ Miss Reliable _ ’s canons. It sent both ships hurtling into space and needing repairs of their own, but she got the message. Especially when Anakin had wired a credit transfer after the whole incident. She’d called, accused them of stealing.

“It’s a bill,” Anakin said, all sweetness and innocence, traits that were quickly leaving the young man behind. “We tested your tractor beam, found it was working fine. That’s what this was, right? Couldn’t be that you… Completely messed up your mission?”

Shmi had laughed, and that sold it perfectly. Aurra Sing did not bother them again after that. Still, Obi Wan could have done without the hair-raising portions of the evening.

The most surprising encounter had been Embo, an otherwise frequent customer of theirs, who Anakin got along fairly well with. Embo had distracted Obi Wan with caring for his pet while Anakin took a look at his ship’s navigational computer. It was surprising only in that Anakin was able to talk Embo out of it fairly quickly. Some mention of a lifetime of free service or something similar that annoyed Obi Wan to no end. But it got the job done. A second success for Anakin, and the boy was starting to get overly cocky. It amused his mother, but Obi Wan was starting to feel sick.

Other more useless attempts began to blur together. Bossk tried a direct approach. Several IGs tried a direct approach. Black Krrsantan tried the direct approach. Each one was quickly dispatched by lightsabers pushing them out the door. Although the Wookie was quite the challenge. Obi Wan was still sore from it, and his heart had known no peace since this strategy had been enacted. He couldn’t even begin to understand how calm Shmi was through it all, but two Skywalkers against one Kenobi promising over and over again that all would be well was starting to drain him completely. Enough was enough. Anakin argued relentlessly that they were almost at that mythic point of too much to bother, and business was booming somehow in the middle of all this mess. Anakin made sure they were still “paid” for their work, swiping credits from every single bounty hunter that attacked them, citing various different “jobs” they had completed for the bounty hunters in the guise of their attacks. Despite all that, Obi Wan’s patience was wearing thin. He’d found a gray hair the night before, and he was only just 30. Vanity was not the Jedi way, nor Obi Wan’s, but this. This was getting out of hand.

Today, Dengar tried a subtler version of the direct approach. It wasn’t working.

“I’m telling you, my ship’s broken! I need help!”

“And I’m telling you to get out of here and tell everyone you know that I’m of the mind to never help a bounty hunter ever again!” Obi Wan rolled his eyes and waved his hand, but Dengar caught on, and smacked it out of the air.

“Don’t you try that on me! Don’t you know who I am? I can’t be tricked with useless magic!”

“And  _ I  _ can’t be tricked with some silly lie about a broken power converter when we both can see your ship is completely stable!” He was tired. He was grouchy, aching, and above all, sleepless, worrying constantly that someone would spirit Anakin away in the night, and shoot the rest of them dead. And he was much too irritated to deal with Dengar of all people. So he pushed him.

“You trying to start something, Jedi? You people asked me to come here!” Dengar shouted, all bluster, to the point where the rags he wore all over fluttered over his face, and he accidentally swallowed one in his bellowing.

He stumbled over himself as Obi Wan pushed him back onto his ship. With a smile, and as much customer service he could muster, he snapped, “Please be sure to tell everyone you know the new rule.” And with that, the door was slammed in Dengar’s face, and Anakin set about detaching and flying them off.

“It was just Dengar. We coulda handled Dengar. And I didn’t even get a chance to get his credits,” Anakin turned in the pilot’s seat, resting his feet on a pile of boxes, and having the audacity to look annoyed. Shmi came out from where she’d been hiding with Anakin in the cockpit, and also looked troubled. 

“Is money all you care about? What about your poor mother?”

“I mean, of all the bounty hunters we’ve encountered, he seemed fairly easy to deal with,” Shmi sighed, and Anakin beamed triumphantly.

“Tatooine builds us tough,” he laughed, and Shmi smiled despite herself.

“Alright then, not your poor mother, your poor  _ me  _ then!” Obi Wan stomped over to the work desk, setting about finding any task to do to calm the shaking in his hands.

“This was your plan though, wasn’t it? To prove that you are both too strong to be taken in?”

“It wasn’t my plan,” Obi Wan groaned. “And it doesn’t seem to be working quite the way you thought, Anakin,!” Obi Wan abandoned the work desk, and was pacing now, trying to find some sort of peace within the force, but these past weeks, meditation had not come easy. It was as if he’d forgotten everything he’d learned with the Order. “I still maintain that no matter how difficult it is, all they’ll do is raise the price, and someone stronger and more determined will absolutely take up that call. This is a foolish plan, and I’ve thought so from the beginning!”

“I mean, once and done though, so far? They haven’t come back,” Anakin said, and Obi Wan snorted.

“Well, now they’ll just think to team up, won’t they? It’s not unheard of! And if the price is high enough, it won’t be hard to split now, would it? ”

A heavy pause weighed between them. Anakin too had begun to tap his foot against the boxes, anxious energy building up. Shmi hummed gently under her breath. 

“Is it possible that you could find… Protection?” Shmi suggested, and Anakin slammed his foot on the ground, and sat up straight, beaming.

Nothing but trouble lay in that smile, so Obi Wan turned to Shmi first, “You mean like… Hired guards? It would be a bit of an expense when we certainly  _ can  _ take care of ourselves…”

Anakin and his mother shook their heads at the same time. Shmi spoke first, “I suppose you wouldn’t need guards so much as… A friend, you know? Anyone you are already close to?”

Obi Wan had no reason to feel this way, but his skin crawled. He glanced at Anakin, whose smirk and waggled eyebrows only made all of Obi Wan’s bad feelings triple. “Exactly, Mom! We could use a friend! Obi Wan, you might have those kinds of friends! You could get real cozy to one of em? Show you’re protected,” Anakin winked, and Obi Wan was not having it.

“I don’t need to be protected, Anakin, you do!”

“I think you might need to be protected,” Anakin stood, hands open and friendly, feigning concern. Obi Wan wondered where on earth he learned to behave this way, and every answer was bad. “Hutts are serious business, Obi Wan, and you made quite the name for yourself, you rabble rouser, you. Besides, I don’t think I’m anybody’s type. They’re all so old,” he just shrugged, like this was nothing. “And anyways, don’t you already have an in?”

Quadrupled. Every bad feeling instantly quadrupled, and Obi Wan felt the need to sit down. But he was rooted in the spot, knowing exactly who Anakin was talking about. “A what? No. Absolutely not. What are you even talking about? Why would anyone need to be anybody’s type for this, Anakin?”

Anakin walked over to Obi Wan, almost at eye level with him now. He looked at him with patient, teasing eyes, and mischief written all over his face, “Obi Wan, come on. You flirt with like. Half of them. I technically could mean anybody.”

His face felt hot, but he was certain it was out of the indignity of it all, “It’s a… distraction technique! A strategy! Nothing more!”

Anakin struck a pose, arms crossed, but one lifted to stroke his pretend beard, and one eyebrow raised, “My, my, Aurra, aren’t you looking absolutely terrifying today. Have you done something with your hair?”

“I’d never say anything like that.” It was unconvincing though. Shmi’d only been here a short while, but even she laughed, covering it badly with a cough.

“You’ve pinned me down, but I’ll always have the upper hand!” The voice Anakin was doing was the worst part, some frog throated sound. Did he really sound like that?

He squirmed, “Alright, I did say that once, but it was… banter!”

Anakin was on a roll now, going through Obi Wan’s preferred lightsaber stances in a mock battle, pressing the attack towards his mother, and she could hold back her laughter no longer, “Alright, alright, settle down gentlemen, there’s enough of me to go around! Oh, Jango Fett? Is that you? You left this behind this morning! You can only get it back if you best me!” 

“Anakin,” Shmi tried to admonish breathlessly. Finally, she coughed, and shook her head, “Be fair to your friend.”

“Yes, Anakin, be fair,” Obi Wan had enough, smacking Anakin lightly on the back of the head. That did get Anakin to stop, and scowl, looking to Shmi for backup, but she just nodded in agreement with Obi Wan. “This is serious, Anakin! We have more than our own lives to think about, we have your mother! Tetra left us the  _ Miss Reliable  _ and her business, and it's our responsibility to keep it going, and, and--”

“And we attract trouble. Not me, Obi Wan. We do. And we’re in a heap of it right now. We could run and hide, but then we’d make no money. We could keep fighting off the bounty hunters, like I said, but I agree, one day someone good might come along and that’s trouble. Just like Tetra’s always said, we’ve gotta be more worth it than anything else. So how are we gonna do that, hm? We  _ could _ make friendly with some bounty hunters, like Mom says! Or other criminals! Like Hondo?”

Anakin shrunk seeing the instant look of displeasure from Obi Wan, “Okay, okay, not Hondo. Bad call.”

“Who is that?” Shmi started, but Obi Wan was already growling out his displeasure.

“He started all this, Anakin!”

“What I’m saying is we need someone big and bad enough on our team that nobody else messes with us, yeah?”

“This sounds expensive,” Obi Wan said, but he stroked his beard and watched Anakin closely, waiting for him to continue.

“Not unless they like us!” Anakin paused, “Or just… you.”

“I’m not going to flirt with a criminal for protection, Anakin,” even if he could, it was mostly a knee jerk reaction. Qui Gon used to call his attempts at banter a shield, a disguise to make himself braver, more charming, cooler. Obi Wan remembered his master saying he could try to train it out of him, but that it was an instinct, and too many Jedi had stopped listening to theirs. Obi Wan often did not agree with his master’s insistence on instinct over rationality, but it had gotten him out of many a sticky situation, and simply came naturally. He’d never admit it, but it was also occasionally fun. It was nothing he’d ever been ashamed of...

Until Anakin became his Padawan and teased him relentlessly about it. Now? Now it was just annoying.

At least back then he’d mostly been flirting with Satine and it was dangerous for different reasons entirely. Now?

He didn’t want to think about now.

“Not even a little? Not even if it was someone you liked, even just a little?”

“There aren’t any criminals or bounty hunters that I like, Anakin, so that’s another reason it’s off the table!”

“It would be very smart if it was someone who frequently worked with the Hutts. Could put in a good word for you,” Shmi offered, and Anakin hugged her. 

“It would be smart! Oh, and I have just the guy!” Anakin pulled up a message, and Obi Wan wasn’t sure if he paled or blushed, but the sinking feeling in his gut was awful all the same. Quintupled bad feelings, all around.

“We’re… Not. Helping him,” Obi Wan started, while Anakin’s smirk turned into a horribly self-satisfied grin. “We’re not helping him! It’s obviously a trap, Anakin, and he’s… A mess, honestly, and it would just be safer for all of us if we just did not help him!”

Not even an hour later, they were docking on the same damned ship he’d managed to fix up all the way back on Takodana. Obi Wan was no longer pacing, but Anakin gently shoved him to get him to stop tapping his foot as rapidly and loudly as he had been. 

“If this gets us killed, Anakin, I’m going to kill you,” he groaned.

“If this gets us killed, there’s not much we can do,” Shmi shrugged. Obi Wan and Anakin both looked at her in genuine surprise, but she simply shook her head, barely disturbed. “You might as well try, as that’s better than being dead.”

“Well,” Obi Wan said, and Anakin chuckled. That certainly did settle things.

As if planned, the airlocks between the two ships snapped open, and there, leaning against the frame, as if this were the most casual visit in the whole galaxy, was Cad Bane.

“You know,” he drawled, and without the cloud of inebriation, there was a laser guided deadliness to the way he let his words linger, “I never did catch your name.”

Anakin involuntarily let out of a squeak that most certainly was a laugh, but Shmi expertly covered it up, kicking him gently, and clearing her throat to cover the sound. “Shall we get you and the client some refreshment while you talk business?” she said, quickly. 

Obi Wan faltered. That was hardly something they’d ever done for anyone. Tetra had scoffed at a haughty noble once that this was a mechanic shop, not a restaurant, when he’d asked for water. But Cad Bane was all smiles--well, as close to a smile as his sharp teeth were capable of. 

“That’s just fine, little lady. Give us a moment.”

That was even more surprising. He swallowed, as Shmi nodded with a gentle smile, and took a bewildered Anakin out of the room. 

“But I wanna talk--,” he started, but the words were cut off with a soft close of the back door. 

This was not the plan at all. This was not the plan at all, and Obi Wan was suddenly very aware of every particle of space in between him and the airlock door. 

He turned, trying to slow his breathing, and clasped his hands behind his back, holding tightly, “So… What seems to be the problem? I performed a miracle on your hyperdrive before, I hope I don’t have to again.”

Bane rose a brow, and strided in, taking in the sights of the  _ Miss Reliable,  _ picking up random hardware, and setting it back down, before circling back to settle on Obi Wan. If this was some sort of intimidation tactic, it wasn’t working… Entirely.

“Straight to business then, hm? Makes sense, I hear you’ve been a busy man of late,” was he laughing? Obi Wan turned slightly to look at the bounty hunter better. “Still, I like to know the names of those I do business with.”

His face flushed.  _ Damn it _ . “Oh uh, of course, I’m…” Obi Wan shook his head, though he felt rattled. That wouldn’t do. 

“I know the fake one, so let’s not try that this time.”

_ Damn it, damn it.  _ He swallowed, clutching his hands behind his back tighter, “Obi Wan Kenobi. At your service.”

Another chuckle. It was a dark and heavy sound. He tried to ignore the slight shiver that went up his spine in response to it. “I had heard of you. You were a great Jedi from the sound of it,” Bane glanced around the ship again, taking it in, assessing it, assessing Obi Wan. In any other battle ground, he’d say the assessment was of one opponent regarding the enemy, but a very different sort of  _ regard  _ certainly shone through that particular look. How a person could convey dismissiveness and attraction was beyond Obi Wan, but he was doing his best to simply not squirm. He just tried to smile, like Tetra always said to do, and wait.  _ Customers all have their own little power trips, but you have the tools, you can leave em in the lurch. Let them have their moment, cause you’re in charge,  _ her voice rang clear through his memory. So he would. Nothing Bane said mattered anyway.

It almost looked as if he were about to say more, something cruel, but Bane must have sensed this part of the game was no longer working. He shook his head, and walked over, “But you wanted to talk business, yeah? So let’s talk.” 

Whatever judgment he had hung in the air, but the mood shift was undeniably effective as a distraction tactic. Between not knowing where the conversation would lead, and the duros steadily walking closer to him, Obi Wan could not quite focus. Tetra’s advice didn’t quite ever cover what to do when the client was just standing a breath away from you. Whether he was overwhelmed or disarmed, he couldn’t quite say, but Obi Wan was losing this battle of wills. He had to retaliate somehow, or at least regain his footing. 

“Actually, yes, I’d very much like to talk business,” he said, much lower than he meant to, but that seemed to work. Bane was far more in control of his poker face today than the last time they’d seen each other, but he did raise his brow again, allowing Obi Wan to see that he was surprised. That he was pleased. 

That perhaps, he was into this.

The temptation to re-rationalize this strategy was strong. Every bit of sense in him told him to run and not listen to instinct, that leaning forward to match the bounty hunter was in fact, dangerous, stupid, ill-conceived. But the force moved through instinct. And he did have a job to do.

For their safety, of course.

“I have something that needs taking care of, if you have something for me,” he spoke without thinking, and almost lost his nerve. When had that wall come up behind him? And was he only now noticing that he was just the smallest bit shorter than the bounty hunter? That was an entirely unhelpful thing to notice. His nerve was gone,“But let’s talk about what needs fixing first.” 

That was evidently less fun. Bane stood back, and though it was clearly an attempt at his previous friendly smile, it came out like a snarl, “Sure, of course. It’s not much,” he strode back towards his ship, gesturing half heartedly. “But some power couplings have gotten jammed. I could fix it myself, but,” he glanced back at Obi Wan. “I thought I should support fellow… independent businesses.”

It was an obvious lie. Dengar had tried it just as half-heartedly as Bane was now. But they both knew that they were in business for other things. He could excuse the lie, so long as they were on the same page. The same page, they certainly were at--the genre was really what was in question.

But he just nodded, willing to go along with this so long as they got what they wanted in the end. “I’ll get to it,” he smiled, ready to focus on anything other than Cad Bane.

“Have the kid do it,” Bane said, grasping Obi Wan’s shoulder before he could head into his ship. “It’s easy enough, and I was under the impression we still had business to discuss?”

Obi Wan paused, unwilling to call Anakin into a trap if this was one. And it most certainly had to be, did it not? Bane must have realized what he was thinking, as he sighed, and gestured towards the door.

“A show of trust—come in, see it first,” another smile, and he couldn’t be sure, but it seemed… Softer. Somehow. “I promise, no traps, no schemes. Just broken power couplings.”

“Alright,” Obi Wan said, and moved into the ship.

Bane quickly followed, walking leisurely through the same path they had walked before, only everything was now tidy, scorch free, and blocked off by the casing that should always have been there. If he did this all himself, he was clearly a talent. All evidence of the damage that had once been so extensive had completely disappeared. 

They took the opposite turn from where Obi Wan remembered the hyperdrive had been, moving instead towards the back of the ship. A small droid floated passed, glancing at them, but otherwise paying no mind. Soon enough, Bane was leaning against another wall, this casing open and it’s insides exposed, revealing two large power couplings jutted out of place. Realignment would be quite easy, but definitely there was a knack to doing it right that did justify somewhat the need for a mechanic. Obi Wan tried to see if there were any other tell tale signs of foul play, anything to indicate this was a trap or an excuse, but there wasn’t much of anything. Either Bane thought he was stupid, and planted the simplest and flimsiest of traps… Or he knew very well that it was flimsy and...

A nagging thought bounced around his head despite every attempt to silence it.  _ And maybe he just wanted to see you. His intentions have been quite clear. _

He shook his head, and refocused. If anything, this was a lothcat and mouse droid game. And he refused to be played with. “How’d you manage this?” he asked, plainly, careful not to look up, and kept his entire attention on the power couplings.

That unfortunately did not distract from the intensity of Bane’s staring at him. “My last bounty tried to play around and charge my ship with theirs, see if I’d blink. I did not.”

“You let a ship crash into yours? And there isn’t more damage?”

“Like I said, I could fix it myself,” Obi Wan did look now, and did not miss the swift change in tone, nor the heavy look in his eyes. 

_ Ah. That answered some questions. _

Bane laughed, as Obi Wan shot up, face hot and head reeling, and immediately headed back towards the  _ Miss Reliable _ . “Anakin should be able to patch that up in no time at all.”

“Hopefully not too fast,” he didn’t look behind him as the duros kept pace with him, but the sensation alone sent electrifying tension through the force. He was glad his back was to Bane—he could roll his eyes at himself in peace. 

This did not happen with Aurra Sing. Or Embo or any other adversary that Obi Wan bantered with. He took the heat of their gaze in stride, used it as a distraction, played up being frustrating and irritating, until he could pinpoint an opening, and defeat them once and for all. His flirting, as Anakin so derided it, was in fact never based in any actual chemistry, at least not on his part. It was simply a way to misdirect. 

When he was younger, he’d tried that same misdirection with Satine, and she’d seen right through him. In turn, she frustrated and irritated him until he was vulnerable, and open, and a whole new world of trouble revealed itself to him. 

This whole situation was completely different. Delicate even. But he couldn’t quite decipher why, only that whatever attempts to misdirect he threw Bane’s way were almost certain to become double edged. And he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. 

And that was where the danger lied. Because if he wasn’t tasked with being the sensible one, the guardian, the protector, the one in charge of this little family of theirs… He might have to admit that this danger was…

Fun.

He let the thoughts fall away as he fetched Anakin, telling him what the job was. Anakin seemed desperate to ask a great deal of questions, but Bane shooed him away, telling him his droid would help him with anything he needed. Shmi poked her head out briefly, only to retreat again. All too quickly, they were alone once more.

“Now, what’s this about business for me? Got somebody you need me to kill?” It was almost hard to tell, but the duros was joking. He popped a stick of spice or a death stick, or some other such nonsense into his mouth, and without thinking, Obi Wan snatched it out.

All good feelings left the room as Cad Bane looked at him darkly, the threat of violence palpable in the force. 

Obi Wan just chuckled, throwing the damn thing away, “These kill you, you know. Plus, it’s bad for my equipment. I’d have to charge you double.”

“Look here, I’m doing you a favor,”  _ Aha!  _ It was Obi Wan’s turn, finally, to have the upper hand. As Bane leaned forward to argue, Obi Wan stood stock still, and just smiled good naturedly.  _ Too  _ good naturedly perhaps. Bane huffed, but his arguments died down much quicker than he seemed to be used to, and he began to pace instead. “Well, what’s the job.”

“No job, not really,” oh this was much more fun. Obi Wan eased himself towards the pacing duros, arms crossed, but an easy going smile still on his face. Bane just growled. “More of an arrangement. If it’s amenable to you, of course.”

Obi Wan stood in the way of Bane’s further pacing, achieving precisely what he’d hoped with that maneuver—Bane raked his eyes along Obi Wan (he had to allow that, although a shudder of something went through him as the bounty hunter did so), and settled on watching his face closely. He was calculating his next move, but so was Obi Wan, and if he had to hazard a guess, Bane would likely resume their little dance, even if it was too much trouble.

Otherwise, why would he have even come here?

Bane nodded, a sign for Obi Wan to continue. He smiled, and did just that.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, we aboard the  _ Miss Reliable  _ have found ourselves in a rather sticky situation…”

“That’s one thing to call two very big bounties, sure.”

“And you are… One of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy,” another dark look, and Obi Wan chuckled, “If not  _ the  _ best.”

He shrugged, uncrossing his arms to fold them behind his back once again, playing at being deep in thought, but leaning in closely, conspiratorially, “Surely, no other bounty hunters come close. No one dares to cross Cad Bane.”

“Get to the point,” he said, but there wasn’t much bite to it. Obi Wan was actually surprised. He thought flattery might annoy him, rather than win him over, but it appeared that all bounty hunters’ weaknesses revolved around ego.

“Exclusive access to our shop. You have first rights to all parts, all repairs needed. We’ll drop anything to come help you. All we need is your…”

“Protection?” 

“Yes, exactly,” Obi Wan said, smiling. This seemed to be going well. Bane was receptive to the idea, and though quiet, was now pacing around the opposite half of the room in a show of consideration. It was all an act, and clearly he’d ask for more, but they could be prepared to give it. A percentage of their profits, information, whatever. Perhaps Anakin and Shmi hadn’t been wrong. This could work out.

Bane turned back towards Obi Wan, smiling, a look that was just on the verge of turning wicked, when he grabbed Obi Wan's collar, and let his knuckles graze along his neck, just under his beard, “And what else will I have exclusive access to?”

Obi Wan was wrong. Anakin and Shmi were very wrong. He thought the flirting had all simply been part of negotiation! A little high stakes fun, but this?!

He swallowed hard, staring into Bane’s eyes, trying to think of anything, but all his thoughts were simply static electricity, magnified by their proximity, his touch, his…

“Almost finished!” Anakin’s voice called out from Bane’s ship. He sounded gruff and annoyed, and honestly, it was a relief. Bane released Obi Wan, also irritated, but by the interruption instead. Obi Wan moved towards the air lock quickly, only to be intercepted by the little droid from Bane’s ship. 

“Actually, there seems to be a slight Uh, well, this is embarrassing, a slight problem with a Uh. Message? A private one, sir?” If droids could shrink and cower, this one did immediately as Bane walked over it, stepping into his ship with a growl.

He glanced at Obi Wan, with a practiced, apologetic smile (whether or not it was close to sincere was another story entirely), “I gotta take that. Come on, Todo,” he barked the last order to the droid, who tittered and followed speedily.

Obi Wan was still in a mild state of stupor from their conversation, letting them go through to the other ship without a thought. He rubbed his neck, trying to summon up coherency, but all he could manage was calling out Anakin’s name, to let him know he could return. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d just agreed to… had he even agreed to anything? In truth, they hadn’t settled on an arrangement, they’d just discussed it. But trying to make sense of the conversation only brought up visions of good looking duros bounty hunters pressing him against walls…

_ Oh dear.  _ That was not a thought process to follow through on. Absolutely not.

A cough behind him made him jump, and Shmi stood, glaring at him.

She didn’t say anything, but her disapproval and disappointment was palpable. In fact, more than that, she seemed desperate, angry even.

“I’m not sure why you’re mad at me, Madame, was I not doing precisely what you and Anakin told me to do?”

“Not that!” She snapped, and suddenly, out of the fog of his own thoughts, something became very apparent to him.

The other ship was unattaching itself from the  _ Miss Reliable. _

To say that this had not gone in the fun, hilarious way Anakin had imagined it was an understatement. 

He didn’t even get to see Obi Wan’s plight in dealing with his weird evil crush. Nooo, he had to wait around and work and be kidnapped.

The stupid little droid would have been a very ineffective kidnapper if not for the shock gloves it apparently came readily equipped with. And the voice recorder that managed to capture Anakin’s voice early on, to trick Obi Wan and his mother into thinking he was fine. Now, achy from the shock, and from his bindings, he was locked away in a cramped storage cupboard and gagged on top of it all. The indignity of it all was one thing, but the fact that Obi Wan had been right all along? Horrible. Unthinkable. But most of all? Annoying.

He’d been able to talk his way off of Embo’s ship. He’d been able to sneak off easily on other bounty hunter’s ships. Once he launched himself into space, and the  _ Miss  _ picked him up no problem. Well, besides his mom and Obi Wan yelling at him after. But from the sound of things, Cad Bane had already entered them into hyperspace. The storage locker and his bindings were locked up tight with low and high tech all mingled together. And whatever voltage the little bucket of bolts had used on him drained him pretty well. A subtle aching behind his eyes continued to thump throughout his head, making trying to see at all difficult, and his mouth felt dryer than the gag stuffed into it. 

All in all, a terrible, no good, very bad day for Anakin. And he’d been so sure that even if the bounty was tempting, that all that gross flirting had to mean something. But he supposed bounty hunters were bounty hunters and Tetra was right. They were merciless and soulless and didn’t care about anybody.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t have some tricks up his sleeve.

His first trick coming to was to annoy the hell out of Bane. He kicked the door to the storage locker, threw his whole weight into it, tapping out arrhythmic tunes and trying to sing through the gag the whole time. 

That earned him another shock through the small vents that let air circulate through the locker. “I’m very sorry, young man, but it is getting rather distracting, and we are expecting a call,” the little droid said earnestly. 

The second trick was to wait for the call. Gather information. He stayed quiet, obedient, using all his remaining strength to sit up awkwardly, trying to see through the vents. Cad Bane sat at the front of his ship, working on cleaning out his blasters as the call came in. A hooded translucent figure made the whole ship glow blue.

“Do you have the boy?” A deep voice emanated from the hooded figure. Anakin could not help but shiver. It was not a familiar voice whatsoever, but there was nothing but evil there, he could sense it.

“Yeah, he’s not going anywhere,” Bane almost sounded bored. “I’m heading to the drop off location now.”

“Excellent, most excellent, Bane. And the matter of the Hutts?”

“Dealt with,” with his back to the storage locker, Anakin could not make out much of Bane’s expressions. In fact, in doing business with others he seemed remarkably neutral. This all seemed excessively boring to him. “I don’t think I need to remind you that that costs double.”

“The additional payment of 25,000 credits will be added to your total.”

“50.”

“Do not toy with me, Bane… We agreed…”

“25,000 credits per bounty I remove. The Hutts took off two.” Anakin strained to hear. Cad Bane spoke sternly, but in soft, quiet tones. If he was hearing right, he’d managed to get the Hutt’s bounties off of both he and Obi Wan. And apparently, someone else paid him to do it. But why?

“We did not request for the bounty on Obi Wan Kenobi to be removed.”

Cad Bane leaned back in his chair, and kicked his legs onto the dashboard, jarring the image of the hooded figure just a little. His tone had been casual, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world, but now it sounded just a hint more forced than it had been, “It was a matter of logistics, Count. The Hutts do favors, and I graciously lost one of mine for you, but they don’t take kindly to  _ complicated _ favors. If I asked for one bounty removed, but not the other joint bounty, that would have raised questions. I ask for both, since it was a joint bounty anyway, no one is any the wiser why this kid’s special. You don’t want competition, right?”

The Hooded Figure did not speak for a time, but when he did, objects around Bane flew back—but Bane stayed rooted in his seat. This Count was a powerful force user then. And Bane knew that, and came prepared to deal with angry, powerful force users. “Sensical, Bane. But do not test my gratitude further. Bring the boy, and do not fail.”

“Roger, Roger,” he said half mockingly, shutting off the holo, and Anakin was surprised by the humor in his tone. He almost wanted to laugh.

But he had questions to ask first, and a gag to remove in order to do it.

It took until they were out of hyper speed, hovering over some planet Anakin could not see, for him to remove his gag. As soon as he did, Bane opened the storage locker, and Anakin rushed through to his last trick.

“That was a pretty good bluff you gave that guy back there. But why’d you really convince the Hutts to take the bounty off Obi Wan too?”

“Shut up,” Bane slammed the door in Anakin’s face, jostling his already jostled brain. But he shook it off, waiting for the door to open once more, before launching into it again.

“It just seems unnecessary, you know? Not that we’re not grateful—,” Bane shoved another gag into his mouth.

“I’m not above bringing you in barely alive, kid. Shut up, if you know what’s good for you,” he was still playing bored, still keeping his face, save a few snarls here and there, as neutral as possible. Anakin couldn’t see the tell, but he knew that Bane’s sabaac game was definitely slipping.

He took a chance, and spat the gag back out. “You must  _ really  _ like him.”

“Droid, shut him up,” Bane growled, and the little thing floated over regretfully. Anakin almost felt bad.

Almost. 

“I’m so dreadfully sorry!” The droid said and once again, Anakin was knocked cold.

“Don’t you put trackers on all your tools?” Shmi snapped. “Or the ships that you work on?”

“Who would do that?”

“Watto!” she growled, pacing rapidly around the ship. Obi Wan had to agree--mad as it would have seemed only minutes ago, now a tracking device seemed like an oversight they shouldn’t have forgotten.

To say that things were frantic on the  _ Miss Reliable  _ would be an understatement. Shmi flittered from the nav computer to the communications table frantically pressing buttons, as Obi Wan tried his best to feel out into the force for any sign of Anakin. But there was no knowing where Bane’s ship had gone. Not without far more sophisticated equipment than Obi Wan had. A moment of hopelessness was all he allowed himself--a trick Master Qui Gon taught him years and years ago.  _ Allowing the dread to take hold for a moment will let it pass faster, and let your mind work back towards the answers it cannot see when fear takes hold,  _ he could hear in the back of his mind. The voice transformed from one that was kind, soothing, and calm, to one that was crotchety, barking, and snippy--

_ Tetra _ , he thought, almost giddy with the realization.

He moved Shmi aside as she typed rapidly on the comms, but she fought him, “I can reach him, I know it!” she barked, but with as much gentleness as he could muster while his own heart was racing, beating the pulse in his throat and his head and behind his eyes until it was all he could think about, he moved her. 

“Ma’am, please. Tetra will know what to do,” he said, softer than he currently felt. But the Force could only do so much. And if Watto was smart enough to put trackers on all their ships, Tetra had to be twice as smart.

Tetra’s comms lit up immediately, but it was not Tetra on the other end. Anakin’s silly protocol droid his mother insisted on taking with them answered, spying them as if on accident. “Oh, hello Mistress Shmi! How good it is to see you again! And Master Obi Wan, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

They’d left the thing with Tetra because there just wasn’t room on the  _ Miss  _ for three people and a droid. But more importantly, because he was just a little bit  _ grating.  _ Obi Wan had to keep the deep sigh he had locked and loaded tight within him, and focus on the matter at hand.

“We don’t have time,” Obi Wan began, groaning, but Shmi, smiled, almost grateful to see a familiar face.

“Threepio, we need you to find Tetra! We must speak with her right away! It is very urgent!”

“Oh, oh, of course! Right away, Mistress Shmi!” The poor droid did not waddle away fast enough.

“Urgent, Threepio! Very urgent,” she said, the catch in her voice completely unmasked. Obi Wan grasped her shoulder, and tried to smile, tried to cheer her up, but he himself wasn’t feeling much better than her pale, and haggard self. 

“Tetra will be able to help, I’m certain of it,” he said, his own voice sounding hoarse and shaky. 

The feeling between them though was strong, suffocating in the shame of it: this was a terrible idea. They were the two adults on board. They should have known better. But both of them were kind enough to not point fingers. That wouldn’t help right now. Even so, they could barely look at each other, worry and doubt and anger and shame beating down upon them. 

_ Only a moment,  _ Qui Gon’s voice reminded him. Half a thought, half a feeling, as if he were hearing it again for the first time. 

“Anakin will find some way to get himself out of this,” Obi Wan whispered, and when Shmi laughed, his certainty in that belief was restored.

“He has a knack for getting in and out of trouble,” she whispered back, pride lighting up her whole face. It was infectious. He had to smile too. 

Tetra arrived not a moment after, grumbling the whole way over, “And what’s so urgent that you go sending the daft droid after me instead of just waiting politely, huh?”

“Anakin has been captured,” they said at the same time, and Shmi stopped, looking up at Obi Wan to finish. 

He hardly wanted to, letting his head hang in embarrassment, “By… Cad Bane.”

Tetra sucked in a whistling breath, and tsked at him. It was incredibly effective, and intensely humiliating, but he absolutely deserved it, “Let me guess. You tried to organize some sort of protection racket and it backfired on ya, and now he’s entered hyperspace to Maker knows where?”

His mouth hung open, and he shut it with a loud snap. Shmi too seemed quite surprised. 

Tetra just shook her head, “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say, that’s it’s an old story, and pirates were doing that long before you or Cad Bane.” She muttered something under her breath, and Obi Wan pretended not to hear the affection and embarrassment behind her voice as she grumbled,  _ “Damned Hondo.”  _ His own situation was embarrassing enough, he wouldn’t ask about hers. She coughed, and gestured loosely behind them towards the nav computer. Even not onboard, she knew the  _ Miss  _ like the back of her hand. “I got a long standing program that hacks into every ship that docks with the  _ Miss Reliable _ , and downloads all their Nav info immediately onboard, so if anybody steals parts, skimps out on a payment, or Maker forbid, kidnaps somebody, you know right where they’re off to. More reliable than a tracker too.” She winked. 

“Tetra, you’re,” he didn’t know what to say. She just waved them away.

“You don’t have time to be complimenting me! Get!”

“Hurry!” Shmi said, already darting towards the Nav computer to pull up the program Tetra mentioned. 

“Thank you,” he said, and Tetra just nodded, signing off. 

“I have it!” Shmi announced, already plugging the coordinates in. Obi Wan lept towards the cockpit and took the piloting controls in hand.

“Well then, let’s be off!” A few clicks, and the hyperdrive was engaged.

_ Hopefully, Anakin is alright. Hopefully, Anakin is still there,  _ doubt plagued every inch of his mind, threatening to make a moment into hours--but the vision of Qui Gon once again put his soul at ease. 

They had the answers. Now all they had to do was act.

Anakin woke up on a gravlift, floating through a wilderness of emerald and jade green trees, shimmering delicately in the light. Upon closer inspection of the leaves that had fallen on the ground, they appeared almost translucent, crystal like. But the illusion of crystal was broken quickly by the next thing he became aware of--boots trampling the little leaves with unconscious ease, as he was marched through these woods. 

He wiggled on the flat top of the gravlift, trying to get a better look at where they were or what was going on. The little droid that had been on Bane’s ship tried to hold him in place desperately, “Oh, please sir, don’t make us shock you again! Your body probably wouldn’t be able to withstand it!”

He was tied up a great deal better than before. Cuffs vibrated along his arms, and the taste of metal informed him that he was no longer gagged by a simple piece of cloth, but some sort of device that was making him drowsy as well. He tried to get a glance at Cad Bane, but the gravlift titled a bit, throwing him back down flush against the top.

“Don’t get too excited,” Anakin heard that horrible drawled voice say. “We’re almost there.”

He did his best to glare at the bounty hunter, but if Bane noticed, he didn’t show it. He was focused, hiding it well behind a veneer of cool, but Anakin could sense his hyper awareness of their surroundings, the preparedness for anything to go south. He groaned. This would be harder to escape from than he thought. He tried to reach for his lightsaber, just to see if it was still on him, and of course, it was gone. Anakin twisted around to glance back at Bane once more, only to see his saber, and his blaster Tetra had gotten him under Bane’s coat.

_ This is the worst,  _ he thought miserably. While he had a predilection for moping, Anakin also could not be kept down. And though, physically, he was restrained, he chose instead to observe their surroundings again, getting a closer, more in depth look. 

They were on a path, cleared through the forest, and leading towards various clearings--landing zones, of a sort, he guessed. The trees weren’t densely populated enough that he could not see to their next destination, and as he looked closer, their bark also had a translucent quality to them. With a dozen or so trees between themselves and another clearing, they became opaque, difficult to see through, but jutting off at odd angles that he could still see the space, and guess that it was there. Hiding would be difficult, but not necessarily impossible in this woods. 

The problem still was getting away in the first place.

It seemed a far walk, wherever they were going. His first suspicion was that Cad Bane did not want his own ship found, in case the client reneged on their deal. That would be wise, but bounty hunters, and all these mercenary types were all the sort to prefer a quick getaway. So the distance had to be to the benefit of the client--either they did not want their association known, or secrecy was of the utmost importance for other reasons. 

Anakin wracked his brain, trying to put all the clues together about the identity of this person who wanted him so badly. He knew that Palpatine was after him, according to Obi Wan, and the Jedi Council had seemed to agree with him. But the hooded figure had not sounded a thing like Palpatine. And he was a force user. A count. 

His answers were supplied long before he could figure it out. They arrived at the dropoff, and the entire clearing was surrounded by droid soldiers, not unlike those he’d seen on Naboo. A ship sat in the center, and in front of it, standing tall and stately, was the man in the dark hood. 

“Count Dooku,” Bane said, as pleasantly as someone like him could.

The man removed his hood, and underneath was an older human, grey haired, and hawk-eyed, and Anakin shivered with the darkness that emanated from him. Worse, he recognized him, from lessons about the Lost Twenty—Jedi who left the Order in the pursuit of higher ideals. In the years since they left, Anakin wondered idly about them, if he and Obi Wan should try and seek them out, try and learn from whoever remained. Seeing the Count in the flesh, and feeling the shiver up his spine that he did, he was glad they had not. There was a different energy about Count Dooku. 

The Jedi Council did not talk much about such force users, secretive as they were, and the history classes the Jedi made the younglings take only told him so much. But he remembered the horned man on Naboo. He remembered the way he made Anakin and everyone around him feel. Obi Wan had been kind enough to tell him the truth of it all, though the Council wanted to keep it hushed up. But Anakin had been desperate to know. What had killed Qui Gon Jinn? Why did being near that man fill every pore with electricity, the lungs with bile and smoke, the stomach with dread? 

_ Sith Lord _ , Anakin thought, gaping up at Count Dooku. 

Before he was confident, angry even that his escape was still out of his reach, but sure that it would happen.

Now? He was just afraid.

“Your sum has been wired to you, Bane. I believe our work is done here,” Dooku nodded towards a pair of droids who marched over to take the gravlift. Anakin hadn’t been feeling great about any of this before, but now he was beginning to panic. He tried to wriggle away, but a droid smacked him, knocking the wind from him. All he could do was curl up in pain. 

“Pleasure as always, Count,” Cad Bane still sounded so bored, so casual. Anakin wanted nothing more than to hit him, make him feel as fearful as he was feeling now. He thought the bounty hunter would leave now, but he stayed, watching as the droids walked the gravlift behind Dooku and towards the ship.

Dooku began to turn to follow, but paused a moment, one brow raised in distaste, “I’d advise you to keep your own business out of your client’s affairs in the future, Bane.”

“Take it up with the Hutts. You know how they are.”

For a moment, it seemed as though Dooku was not about to let Cad Bane have the last word, but all eyes lifted towards the sky. 

Anakin wasn’t sure, so desperate and consumed he was, trying to figure out how to escape, but he did feel as though he heard the distinct sound of a podracer engine.

He was certain the next sound was blaster fire.

Droids scattered. Dooku was yelling orders to everyone who would listen. Cad Bane already had his blasters out--which meant he wasn’t paying attention to Anakin.

In the chaos, Anakin reached for his lightsaber, and through the crowd of mechanical bodies, it zipped right into his hands. A couple quick maneuvers, and he was free, and darting off into the wilderness.

He heard more shouting from behind him, and he spared a glance, but only to the sky, where the jumbled clanking mess of a podracing based shuttle hopped through the air.

“Good Ol’ Obi Wan,” Anakin laughed, and kept running.

_ We need a shuttle!  _ Anakin had said.  _ I can build it no problem!  _

_ There is a problem,  _ Obi Wan thought, clenching his teeth and white knuckling the controls of the hobbled together monstrosity Anakin called a shuttle,  _ I hate flying! _

He swept low, trying to draw attention to himself, and to hit as many things as possible--the ship, the droids, mostly, and his first run wasn’t particularly effective. The controls Anakin placed in this makeshift craft were a jumble, making sense only to Anakin’s mind. But it was enough to cause a distraction. When he swept by again, Anakin made his daring escape.

Unfortunately, the bounty hunter took off right after him, followed by a number of droids. 

_ That won’t do,  _ he steeled himself, trying to let go of his frustrations, focusing only on the Force. A dozen droids went down in his sweep, and he managed to damage the ship they had been taking Anakin to. 

He was getting better. He maneuvered to sweep by again, but by this time, the leader of this little droid gathering had gotten wise. His blaster fire was reflected back by--a lightsaber.  _ A lightsaber?!  _ And the ship began firing on him. The shuttle couldn’t handle much--it couldn’t handle anything. And quickly, Obi Wan realized it was going down. 

He flew the shuttle to crash into the woods, hoping at least that would bring him closer to Anakin and away from the enemy. Crystalline trees shattered around the hull of the shuttle, and before he knew it, they were embedded into the red dirt of the planet. 

They may not have been crystals, but as Anakin ran through the translucent forests, the leaves twinkles behind him, chattering together from the wind, part of him wondered if they chimed out even without his contact—as if the Forest was reacting to their presence, and calling out like a warning. 

There wasn’t too much time to wonder. Bane and a couple droids were fast on his trail, and dodging and weaving between see-through tree trunks wasn’t particularly useful. He just had to stay faster.  _ Easy enough,  _ he laughed at himself, dodging a blast that splattered glass like leaves everywhere. 

If only he knew where Obi Wan was…

A huge crash covered the twinkling of the forest for just a moment, before the leaves clattered together like never before.  _ That answers that question. _

He darted off towards the sound—obviously, his pursuers likely would as well, but that just made it more important to get to Obi Wan first. He couldn’t let him have all the fight to himself.

It wasn’t hard to find him. While the forest had a number of clearings, this one was freshly made, a small hole of red clay surrounding the wreckage of his beautiful shuttle. Anakin laughed.

“Nice landing!”

Obi Wan’s head shot up from the cockpit, the canopy gone, and smoke billowing behind him. “One of my better ones,” he couldn’t help but snark back, fury, relief, and fear all mixing into a crooked, shaky smile.

Blaster fire sounded off behind them, and Anakin rushed towards the wreckage, jumping behind it to run off in the opposite direction, Obi Wan following quickly behind.

“Do we have a plan, Obi Wan?”

“At the moment, run!” 

“You didn’t have a plan for rescuing me?” He was surprised. It always felt like Obi Wan had a plan.

“Just to rescue you!” Obi Wan laughed, as they cut into a deeper part of the forest, the trees layered on top of one another here, offering a touch more obscurity. “Your mother is still trying to find somewhere safe to land the ship!”

“She can’t fly!” Anakin snapped.

“You’d be surprised,” Obi Wan said breathily. The deeper into the woods they went, the more hushed their voices became.

They came to a stop, slowing down as the sound of blaster fire was entirely taken over by the chime-like tune around them. 

Obi Wan motioned for them to continue, but slowly. With gentler motions, they might not irritate the forest so. Anakin agreed.

Delicately they pressed on, reaching out through the Force to feel the best spot to take their next step, to move their bodies without fear of harming the trees. Around them, in a multitude of directions, the trees still sang out where droids trampled through. But they moved silently, like the wind.

Obi Wan brought them to a standstill, as through the gaps in the trees, he spotted movement before he heard it. As luck would have it, the bounty hunter had obviously figured out the trick to the woods as well.

A trick quickly ruined by two droids coming up behind him noisily. “Sir! Nothing in this quarter, sir!”

“Quiet,” was all the duros barked, but the droids continued.

“We’ll probably make better time if we go the opposite way, sir, we already checked this area thoroughly--what’s with the blaster?”

Two shots, and the droids were down. Cad Bane just rolled his eyes, and continued.

They waited, sitting in silence, until they were sure the bounty hunter was out of ear shot. Then Obi Wan gently shoved Anakin.

“Wha--,” he started, but Obi Wan hissed, pointing after Bane.

“That was your plan, by the way.”

“It was a good plan too,” Anakin rolled his shoulder, and stuck his tongue out. “Obviously you didn’t do your job good enough though!”

“My job?! Anakin, he tricked us! It was all a ploy to get to you!”

He chuckled, bumping into Obi Wan before moving forward, “Obi Wan, please. You’re making far too much noise. We’ll be caught!”

His former master was fully red as he slowly resumed their attempted escape. Anakin couldn’t help but tease. It kept him from being scared. 

“Besides, he has to like you a little. Nobody gets bounties removed for nobody. Especially when they aren’t being paid to.”

If Obi Wan reacted to that, no outside indicators would have shown it. But Anakin knew, watching his friend move through the trees, that it had to be the only thing he was thinking about. 

Anakin sensed it before he saw anything. The intention in force hit him like a fist, and suddenly the forest around them dissolved, replaced by a vision. Two bolts, and Obi Wan’s face twisted in agony. Without a second thought, as the vision dissolved, he dove at his friend, and he and Obi Wan crashed to the ground, sending up a cacophony of trilling little chimes through the forest, masked only by two shots that burned into the tree behind them.

“Run,” Obi Wan commanded, but of course, Anakin disobeyed.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said, igniting his lightsaber. 

“Too bad you don’t have much of a choice in the matter, kid,” they heard the bounty hunter before they saw him, a bola whipping out through the crystalline trees, and wrapping itself around Anakin’s hands. Obi Wan ignited his own lightsaber and cut the wire, but Anakin was still tangled, his blade dropping from his hands. 

“Run!” Obi Wan shouted again, as Cad Bane emerged, rocket propelled, firing at Obi Wan. 

“I can still help!” Anakin insisted, even while desperately trying to break through the wiring around his hands. “Damn it,” he cursed at himself, knowing he should have been more aware. His vision had distracted him, rattled him. Between that, the shocks, and all the rest that had happened, he couldn’t clear his thoughts enough to focus on battle.

Obi Wan knew. It wasn’t two seconds later that he force pushed Anakin through the trees, sending him far, far away, despite Anakin’s protests. 

When he landed, roughly and covered in the shards of the trees around them, he finally got his hands free, and made to run back to the fight. But a shadow covered him, and all the light around him as well.

Fearful, he looked up.

And smiled.

“A little less friendly than before,” Obi Wan said, lightsaber out, and slowly walking to block Bane’s path.

Bane matched his pace, smiling, “It’s just business. Sorry to kill the mood.”

“As if you could,” he said without thinking. When Bane’s eyes lit up, he quickly added, “As if you could be sorry.”

“You’re probably right, I wasn’t ever much good with apologies,” and with that, he launched himself, seemingly at Obi Wan, but no--Obi Wan dodged, only to see that Bane had grabbed Anakin’s lightsaber, and ignited it.

He didn’t think his opponent was much of a duelist, but he knew that even drunk, Bane was able to take out ten pirates in one battle. This had to be a distraction. Strategically, he’d want to get away and back to Anakin as soon as possible--so why prolong the fight with a direct engagement?

Despite the lack of any sort of sword technique, Bane was clever, hacking and slashing randomly to keep Obi Wan’s focus above, while setting a trap below. A bounty hunter’s favorite tool, bolas, were set below, and one false step, and Obi Wan almost was caught--the wires flung him high into the air, but with a swift cut, and a twist, he launched himself back. This put a good distance between them, and to encourage the distance, flames were shot out next. It was difficult to see through the smoke, but the Force sounded out all around him--Obi Wan turned just in time to block a direct slash towards his face with Anakin’s lightsaber.

“You’re rather more capable with a blade than I thought,” he almost smiled, but his face remained unmoved. 

“I’ve never had any complaints before,” his voice was far too light, far too easy--it could have been Obi Wan’s imagination, but he swore the duros winked. He’d given away in all their interactions before that he could be easily flustered…

But they’d never been in battle before. And unfortunately for the bounty hunter, nothing rattled him when his lightsaber was in his hand. 

“You know,” Obi Wan said, breaking the stalemate between them, and pushing back, first with the blade, and then with the Force, “Neither have I.”

Bane hit a tree, and folded over, needing a moment to shake off and recover, but as soon as he did, the smirk of delight on his face quickly turned into a snarl. “Never a dull moment with you, Jedi.” He stood, taking a few shots at Obi Wan--a couple he was able to block, hitting the trees around them, sending that twinkling sound through the air once more, but one managed to hit, and while Obi Wan took a moment to grab his already injured shoulder in pain, Bane took his chance to charge with Anakin’s lightsaber.

He was about to roll out of the way, block, jump into the air, anything to avoid the attack, but something stirred in the forest. Even the Force shook with some kind of intensity… Rumbling, stumbling, ecstatic, and thunderous…

Joy?

He looked up, and couldn’t decide whether to smile or groan.

He settled on grabbing Anakin’s lightsaber out of Bane’s stunned hands, and jumping up into the air to land on the top of the swiftly descending  _ Miss Reliable _ as it headed straight for Cad Bane.

“Sorry, they do like to barge in like this,” he said, as Bane dashed back into the forest, and the  _ Miss Reliable  _ hit the trees, ramming at top speeds, dragging crystal branches and leaves with it as they made their daring…

Well… Crash.

But at least, as Obi Wan clung to the hull of the ship, looking back at the forest behind them, they’d be crashing for quite some time, and very far away from the droids, Dooku…

And annoying cocky bounty hunters.

They did not stop crashing for a good few dozen clicks. They could have stopped sooner, but Anakin was having a very difficult time trying to calm his poor mother down, and she refused to let go of the wheel, or open her eyes. 

It had all been Shmi’s idea. As much as acting without thinking could be called an idea.

Obi Wan had left her in orbit, taking Anakin’s makeshift shuttle, to go down and rescue him. Assured she could fly, he suggested to her to attempt landing somewhere safe if she could. When that seemed to be taking far too long for her liking, Shmi could not help but envision every possible thing that could have gone wrong. Obi Wan was immediately shot through by a dozen or so pirates or droids of whatever else was down there. Perhaps he was on fire somehow, having self-combusted in that heap that Anakin had built (though she trusted Anakin’s abilities, she hardly ever trusted the machines themselves). Anakin, meanwhile, had been stolen, eaten, decapitated, murdered, turned into a living machine, anything horrible really that she could imagine, it was all happening before her eyes, and she couldn’t take it. She could not wait up in the stars and wait to see if everything was alright. She could not focus on trying to land the ship safely, and wait for them on the ground. Without a thought or a battle plan, she put the  _ Miss Reliable  _ to a descending path. 

She saw droids, everywhere. 

She was shot at by some fancy Serenno ship, but she managed, somehow, to maneuver the clunky  _ Miss Reliable  _ and miss its shots completely. At one turn to dodge, she accidentally hit the blasters, and a chunk of forest exploded into a shower of crystals in her wake. With it, the already damaged Serenno ship.

She saw Anakin rush into a forest, and be followed by that terrible bounty hunter and droids, and Obi Wan. 

So she followed. 

It was difficult from the  _ Miss Reliable  _ to observe everything in the forest. The trees were clear, but obscured much more from a higher vantage point. Shakily, she pressed onward, until, as if he’d been calling to her this whole time, Anakin waved up at her, and leapt onto the  _ Miss Reliable. _

When he told her that Obi Wan was still fighting, it was only natural to go fetch him as well.

He told her that the blasters likely wouldn’t be safe to fire--the potential to hit Obi Wan was too great. He’d asked if she’d wanted to let him fly and take care of it.

She didn’t answer.

Her mind was too rattled. She was frightened, she was stressed, she was relieved, and she was most importantly angry. 

Her son was supposed to be free from all this nonsense. Ever since sending him away, he’d engaged in more and more danger than she ever imagined, and even now, out of the Jedi Order, he was still in danger she could not prepare for, or protect him from. It was madness, and it was the sort of chaos that her life before on Tatooine had prepared her for. But it was unfair--and though she’d expected unfairness in her life, and weathered it well, her boy should not have had to. That man, Qui Gon Jinn, had told her what she’d always known. He was special. He was different.

And damned it all, most importantly, he was her son, and she couldn’t do anything about any of it!

Well, through the whole tirade in her head, she had said nothing. She had shaked, and shivered, and white knuckled the wheel, but she said nothing, made no noise of distress or worry. She could have moved her hands over to the button she’d hit accidentally before, but no. Instead, she clutched harder, more desperately, and pressed the  _ Miss  _ downward.

She was at the wheel. She was in control. And some horrible, blue bastard of a man was trying to ruin this beautiful new life she had with her son.

Shmi Skywalker wanted nothing more than to crush out the life of anyone who would harm them.

It wasn’t until the  _ Miss  _ lurched with the force of hitting the trees, and the hull screeched with the sound of thousands of crystalline plants scratching the sides, and the dust and the dirt flew up, blocking the viewport, that it occurred to Shmi what was happening at all. That was when she began to truly panic, and began shouting, and refusing to let go, still just pressing forward, until a perfectly reliably safe distance away, the  _ Miss  _ came to its natural stop.

Anakin held her, and was gently shushing her, and the words he was saying slowly, but surely started to make sense as the fog she had surrounded herself in began to die down. “...Mom, that was incredible! Amazing! You should let go now, let me get you something, it’s all okay, you did great!” 

She had? She wanted to ask what it was she had supposedly done, but it all came dizzyingly back to her. She felt sick.

She fell back, only to be caught by the strong gentle hands of her son. “Mom! You okay?”

The top hatch opened, and with a much too loud thud, Obi Wan, covered head to toe in red dust and crystal leaves, bounded over.

“Anakin, what did you do?”

“It wasn’t me, it was my Mom! Pretty slick, huh?”

Obi Wan just stared, open mouthed. She’d have teased him or scolded him, but she herself felt like staring, open mouthed, was all that she could do at the moment. 

“Here, Mom, here,” Anakin helped her up and over to a more cushioned seat than the pilot’s chair. He deposited her, and bouncing, thrilling, he hurried off, “Let me get you some water! WOW! What a landing, Mom, I knew I got it from somewhere!”

“What?” she said after him, but he was already in the kitchen, still enthusing about her piloting skills.

Obi Wan looked from the kitchen, back to Shmi, then all around them.

Something above them sparked. Neither of them jumped, as the cold rush of reality settled over them.

“We… Might still be able to get into the air,” Obi Wan’s tone was not even a quarter as optimistic as his words, as a jumble of cables fell out of a panel and right onto the floor in front of him.

“They won’t really be able to pursue,” her optimism was never great, and even now, she was unconvinced by her attempt at it. Still, “I did manage to shoot the ship.”

Obi Wan’s gloomy face broke out into a smile, “You did?”

“I did! I didn’t really see how it turned out, but… It made for a pretty little explosion.”

“Oh?” he was starting to laugh now.

“Obi Wan, you should have seen it!” Anakin returned with water, and a play by play. But now Shmi was laughing too. 

They would chock the whole day up to a fleeting moment of insanity for the lot of them. With an efficiency born of embarrassment and desperation, the  _ Miss Reliable  _ flew off the next day as if nothing had happened. 

And Obi Wan’s initial plan was taken up with a great deal of unspoken  _ I told you so _ s. A new sign was painted on the side of the  _ Miss,  _ in bold, bright letters, and triple underlined:

_ Miss Reliable, Parts and Repair _

_ NO BOUNTY HUNTERS, OR PAY  _ ~~_DOUBLE TRIPLE_ _QUADRUPLE_~~ _ QUINTUPLE _

It wasn’t perfect, and there were still a number of misadventures and unfortunate events, but for a good long while, business resumed without too much excitement.

In fact, as the years went on, Anakin would find that he hoped for a bit more adventure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess whose an idiot and didn't know i could just paste into rich text this whole time and has been stressing about html instead! D:  
> that'll make life easier for the next time... speaking of.
> 
> Next up Attack of the Clones!
> 
> hopefully soon. D:


	5. Interludes One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some minor moments in the chaotic lives of two mechanics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was gonna make these little Interlude things I wrote a whole separate fic, but they aren't that long, and I need to edit the next chapter, so I'm just making it a part of it. I am hoping to get the first Attack of the Clones chapter up today too, but it might be tomorrow, we shall see!

  * **To Give and Take**



It was a blur. They had been training, having landed for refueling at a beautiful, lush jungle planet. They went out deep into the woods, training Anakin’s senses, his reflexes, all that they would have at the Temple. And all of a sudden, too close to a cliff’s edge, Obi Wan tried to reach for Anakin, and instinct took over… 

Anakin had cut Obi Wan pretty badly--but he was afraid, unsure, and the sense was that something was coming up behind him. It wasn’t until his eyes were open, and Obi Wan was clutching his side tightly, that everything became clear.

Obi Wan told him it was alright. They would not make it back to the village. He told him contingency plans, assurances, all sorts of nonsense, but Anakin didn’t hear a word of it. 

Again, instinct took over. Anakin knelt over his friend, his brother, the most important person in his world, and did not think. 

The Force flowed through him. 

The intensity of his emotion carried outside of Anakin Skywalker. Every memory of Obi Wan Kenobi seeped through his finger tips--the moment when Obi Wan told him of Qui Gon’s intentions for the two of them. Their first training session together, where fear gripped the both of them so tightly that they were both of the verge of tears. A year into his Padawan training where finally they seemed to fit into sync. Synchronicity, balance, flow.

The Future seemed to flow into this moment too. He saw the two of them, always in sync, always in motion, fighting side by side amongst waves of faceless warriors, the two of them smiling, laughing, the two of them, in a river of fire, fighting one another, still always in sync. Synchronicity, balance, flow. A piece of his heart broke at these visions, and he did not know why, but no matter what, the Force showed that this alone would always be true.

“Anakin?” he heard Obi Wan say, but only when the Force stopped, and ceased filling his head with visions of time forgotten.

It was a blur. But Obi Wan was not bleeding anymore. Anakin smiled.

And passed out.

Later, back on the  _ Miss,  _ when both of them took a stimpak, and both of them rested, Obi Wan explained that this was a technique the Jedi solely taught their healers. It had drawbacks. It took a bit of one’s lifeforce with it. It was why the Jedi Knights were not taught it, to keep them strong. Anakin, having never been taught it, nor shown it, should not have been able to do this.

He wondered after that, what else the Jedi did not teach him.

  * **Mother Onboard**



It wasn’t quite usual for Jedi to “fall under the weather” as Shmi quite delicately put it. It just took rather strong illnesses to decommission a Jedi.

So a cold was a rather completely new and foreign experience to Obi Wan. And it was, in all sincerity, the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

He was not one who was prone to exaggeration, but he was also not one who was prone to inaction. Nor was he accustomed to being taken care of. All three things were currently happening in full force, and he simply wanted to pretend that nothing was happening at all.

“Really, madame, I’m quite,” he sniffed miserably, rolling his eyes at himself internally.  _ Was that really necessary?  _ He thought to himself, a shiver going throughout him, keeping him from finishing his sentence.

Shmi just shook her head, and bullied him back into bed. “And I thought Anakin could be stubborn. Grown men are much worse.”

“But really, there’s too much that I must attend to today, ma’am, I really don’t have time,” an ill timed sneeze interrupted his sentence. He could barely talk without his body betraying him. And talking alone was difficult because his throat was raw and sore and he could hear the illness in his voice. He felt like sulking but that would be admitting defeat. He tried to stand up, but once again, Shmi pushed him back down, this time with a steaming cup of something horridly tasteless and warm.

“Drink,” she commanded. He obeyed, and winced.

“But I have to manage the books, and,” he coughed, and took another sip of the horrible concoction. “And take a tally of the… of the…” the thought escaped him. That was another ridiculous aspect of this sickness. The fog that surrounded his brain kept him from being able to remember anything. All that he was really capable of was sitting there, but that meant Shmi won, and he was indeed sick.

“Anakin is working on tallying all the equipment, and I have the books covered,” she said primly, tucking him in. He’d never been tucked in. This was purely embarrassing.

“Madame, you do not need to care for me like I’m…,” A youngling. Her son. He wasn’t sure what was making him uncomfortable about the whole situation, other than all of it. He was supposed to be the one taking care of all of them. He was the provider, the protector, the…

She placed a cool piece of cloth over his eyes and all of his discomfort and protestations died in an instant. He hadn’t even realized how hot and achy he felt until the cool, damp towel was laid over his face.

“There,” Shmi said, and he could hear the triumphant smile in her voice. “Now, finish drinking that up, and go to sleep. That’s an order.”

He could have complained more. He could have snapped and grumbled. Instead, he was tired. And his bed felt more comfortable than any bed he’d ever slept on in his life. So, he listened.

And from then on, despite remaining the primary protector of the  _ Miss Reliable _ , whatever Shmi said, Obi Wan listened.

  * **Checking In**



Things had been fairly easy for nearly a decade now. They had found their place in the galaxy outside of the Jedi, had escaped capture, destruction, and all ills time and time again. The  _ Miss Reliable  _ once again became a constant for the galaxy at large, and for the little family that had come to call it home.

In all that time, they had not come across the Jedi at all. It was a clean separation. No one reached out to them. They did not accidentally cross paths. The Jedi Order was purely a thing of the past for Obi Wan and Anakin.

So when a Jedi starfighter requested to dock with the  _ Miss _ , well… it was a bit a surprise.

Depa Billaba was a Jedi Master, about Obi Wan’s age, though she had not been his crechemate, he had always found her good company. She was a great deal like his master, Qui Gon. Quiet, constantly observing, and always questioning the choices the Order made. And yet, here they stood together aboard his ship, one of them still a Jedi, and the other having departed from the Order for good. 

She looked around the ship, appraising it like only a Jedi would. Her arms clasped tightly in her sleeves, her eyes sensing every nook and cranny and dust mote in the room, and a soft, thoughtful smile on her lips, that anyone else would call a neutral, dour expression. But Obi Wan knew. And Obi Wan had to wonder what brought her here.

She said she had a problem with her astromech. Anakin attended to it as only he could with droids, chatting away with the thing like it was an old playmate. But Depa Billaba’s whole focus was not on getting her repairs. It was on the two ex-Jedi before her.

“How are things? Do you still train him?” She asked, after the light small talk was through. Obi Wan wished she’d get to the point already. If this were an official investigation into their post-Order lives, he would understand. But this felt different. There was a hesitancy in Depa’s form that he’d never seen in her before. There was doubt, and fear, and worry. He’d seen her question countless things in the order… but never doubt.

“I do,” he assured her, thinking on all that Anakin had been able to accomplish without the strict guidelines that had taught him. “He is progressing far beyond where I was at his age.”

She smiled, “That’s good. I’m glad of it.”

“...is the Order glad of it?”

She paused for less than a second, but he could feel her hesitation in the Force more than see it. “They are. They are curious, but trust in your abilities as a master.”

“But?” He couldn’t help but say. There was more to all of this than she could speak on, and he was not going to let her go without saying what.

Depa sighed, and began to pace, thinking through what she wanted to say. It was not something he remembered of her. Where other Jedi quietly pondered precisely what they wanted to communicate before ever speaking, Depa had, in her youth, a bad habit of saying whatever was on her mind. It seemed that time had soothed her restless spirit--or if not that, at least made her wiser about who she revealed it to. The thought almost made him… Sad? Remorseful? He was not sure.

“Obi Wan, I came here today of my own volition. I’m not here on Council business,” that was honestly a surprise. They had been friends, but never close. He let her continue, “I am of the opinion that you have done immensely right by your Padawan, and yourself. We should be letting you alone to lead your lives forever, as far as I am concerned. But the Council…” Here she chewed her lip, and anger flared into the Force, swiftly calmed but not swiftly enough. “They are… taking into consideration what use those trained in the Jedi arts, but outside the political and legal restrictions of the Jedi might be.”

He didn’t mean to, but he laughed. “The Order would never do…” but the words died on his lips. Depa Billaba often questioned, but she never lied. 

His mouth was dry. He nodded, unsure of what else to do. “Thank you for warning us,” was all he could say. His mind was reeling. Would there be any punishment if they didn’t comply? What could the Council ask of them that they themselves could not do? 

And was there any future in which he wouldn’t do exactly as they asked? That’s what he worried for the most, but already, he could feel every inch of him ready to jump to action at their call. Like instinct. 

But how would Anakin react?

Depa simply nodded, and rose to leave him with his thoughts. “I thought it best you knew. So you could prepare however you see fit, but…” She sighed again, and squeezed his shoulder gently, trying to convey her condolences. “Do not fear to tell them no.”

Could he? Was that even an option? 

She left then, and paid them for their work. Anakin asked about what they had talked about, and a part of Obi Wan wanted to keep him in the dark, let him be happy and worry-free, just a little while longer. But that was part of the reason they’d left, wasn’t it? There was supposed to be no secrets between the two of them. 

His head was filled to the brim with questions of his own, but he quieted his concern, and said softly, “The Council… May wish to contact us soon.”

“Oh.”

That was unexpected, but he supposed it made sense. Anakin looked unsure more than anything. “This didn’t count?” he asked, and Obi Wan shook his head.

“That was a warning. Depa thought it wise to let us know their intentions ahead of time.”

He didn’t say much after that. Just nodded. Obi Wan had hoped the two of them could talk more about it, plan some strategy or another for how they would handle it, but Anakin did not seem interested in doing so.

Rather, he asked to leave.

“Just for a bit,” he said, smiling, laughing, trying to put both Shmi and Obi Wan at ease. “I’ll be back in a day or two.”

To where, they did not know. But Obi Wan would not begrudge him whatever journey he needed to go on. 

“Two days,” he made Anakin promise.

“Two days,” he agreed. 

  
  


  * **The Dream**



The night before Depa Billaba came to their ship, Anakin had dreamed. Not regular dreams, but the kind that he was used to, the kind he had when he was young, before the Jedi ever came into his life. They were almost like the visions that occasionally slammed into the foreground of his thoughts, overwhelming him in dread of what could be, and what he had to prevent. When Obi Wan had been injured on that planet about a year ago now, it was almost like when he gave himself over to the Force, and it drowned him in a sea of time he couldn’t crawl out of. When he was young, his dreams often were like these visions--a moisture collector boiled over, and the burning water skinned his mother, killing her. When it had happened that they were walking by a moisture farm, he spotted the malfunctioning unit right away, and saved the farm, and his mother. He dreamt of a great beast that stalked the desert, carrying other little children away in the night. Nobody had listened to him then, and at least dozen of his friends were never seen again. He dreamt that he would become a jedi knight, a brave, tall, honest warrior, of goodness and truth--when the man from his dreams he envisioned himself becoming stepped into their life all those years ago on Tatooine, he trusted in the vision completely. 

Now he knew that they were… More complicated than that. And yet, he had dreamt the night before Depa Billaba had come. And the dream was… Difficult to understand. Had he still been at the Jedi Temple, he would have consulted Yoda, maybe Obi Wan, but neither of them held much stock in his visions, just warned him about following them too closely. But the visions had saved Obi Wan once already. And this dream had already begun to resemble reality. 

_ Depa Billaba arrives on their ship, fear in her stance and face. Suddenly, they are surrounded by shadows and fire. She looks over a hill, at a boy, and just says “Run.” _

_ The shadows grow tall, the stern, tense faces of Jedi, all the same face. They storm the Republic.  _

_ Dooku looks down at him with pity, and Anakin feels pain, pain, pain.  _

_ Only an angel soothes the pain he feels.  _

_ But at the end, he is always alone. _

_ Always alone, and burning. _

It was a more intense dream than he’d had before. Less real, and more feeling, but the feelings had already started to come true. When Depa arrived, sending him off to tend to her astromech, he could not help but feel her fear radiating off of her, scalding his skin as he passed her. 

And after what Obi Wan had told him, something in him just knew… Knew that these dreams were real, that they foretold something to be wary of, and that the answers he sought were not in traditional places. He could not ask Obi Wan nor the Jedi for help here. He had to discover the meaning of his dreams on his own.

And for whatever reason, the Force told him to go home.

Two days, he promised Obi Wan. He wasn’t sure if it really would take so little time, but he was hopeful. But stepping onto Tatooine’s soil once more… The last time, when they saved his mother, and by extension, freed the entirety of Mos Espa, he wasn’t sure he would ever see this sandy hellhole again. Now, despite the misgivings being here always gave him, he tried to open himself up to the Force, and see where it would lead him. 

Many tried to stop him, speak sense to him, as he closed his eyes, and walked straight out into the desert. The final voices had been moisture farmers, the Lars family he heard off hand, warning him of the Tusken Raiders, and other dangers that only came out on cold Tatooine nights. He did not listen, but only walked forward. The Force would guide him, and the Force would protect him.

Perhaps there was danger, he did not notice. His feet led him to a lowly valley, deep within the crevices of a mountain range. Bones surrounded him, of the creatures that lost themselves to the fall, or were hunted to this point, and lost their battle to the hungry. The Force converged here in a cacophony of voices, the cries of the abandoned, the lonely, the forgotten. He sat, and let their voices carry over him, drown out his thoughts, his feelings, and he sank, deep, deep into a moonless and starless dark.

_ A boy, nearly a man, stares out among the dead, looking to the Twin Suns of Tatooine. _

_ He will avenge us, a voice begs, and an old man hopes. _

_ His hopes are filled with the voices of thousands of ghosts with the same face, crying out with broken hearts. Kyber falls like rain, and when it touches the ground, planets crumble. _

_ A monster. No, a machine, looms, all in black, red eyes stalking him in the dark. Fire follows wherever he goes, but his heart is cold. _

_ An angel still hopes, even as all she knows falls apart around her. _

_ The monster looks to Anakin, and a blade of blood ignites.  _

“Don’t try it,”  _ he hears Obi Wan say through his own lips.  _

_ He fights for his life.  _

_ He burns. _

_ As he burns alive, what’s left of him turns into a cold, dead star, limbs useless, heart useless, soul useless, and someone moves his body into a tomb he’s chosen. _

_ A monster. No, a machine. He becomes the dead thing that stalks in the dark, and he wanted it. Wants it. Wants the taste of power, the exquisite joy of letting go, breaking free of love, of joy, of hope, and savoring only pain. Everything is his to control. Everything is his. Everyone will feel his pain. _

_ It is all they deserve.  _

_ It is all he deserves. _

_ It is. _

_ Inevitable. _

He awoke with a start in the morning, his skin burned by the twin suns rising into the sky, and his throat dry. With a heavy, and aching heart, he returned to the moisture farm to trade credits for water, and tried to not shiver at the memory of his visions. He’d go out again. He had to. There was too much at stake, he felt, and this… This was not the only answer. 

The Lars family wanted to feed him, let him rest the night at their home. They were kind people, and Anakin thanked them warmly. But he had to go back to where the Force converged. He had to find anything that wasn’t that monster… 

He followed the Force back out towards the mountains, but his feet did not stop at the valley, where bones and blood and sand melted together, and the darkness ran supreme. The Force carried him up the mountain, to a small cliff’s edge. Something told him idly that it would be a nice spot to build a house and lay low. He could almost feel himself grow old here, communing with the Force daily, and watching the sunset beyond the little Lars moisture farm he could see on the horizon. He sat to meditate, and felt the breeze carry him away, into a soft, safe dream.

_ A woman, young and alone, breaks into tears on board a ship she does not know.  _

“It can’t be. It’s not possible, how…,”  _ she asks, and the med droid dismisses her. There is no science to support a fatherless pregnancy in her species. She is branded delusional, and a liar. _

_ But she knows in her heart the truth. She holds to it. _

_ A woman, young and alone, dies on an operating table. He only hears her, as she begs her friend to understand,  _ “There’s still good in him.”  _ She believes it fully, and holds it in her final moments.  _

_ The machine lurks in the dark here still. But his visage is clouded by something else. _

_ A Jedi, tall and honest, stands in front of a room of leaders, and declares them defunct.  _ “We are leading this corrupt government into a future of Light. The Force is with us, and we alone will guide you out of the Dark.”  _ He is too bright. The shine of him burns like the suns on his skin.  _

_ He blots out the night sky on thousands of worlds. Vibrant green planets dry up into desert sand, until the galaxy is painted white and dead. 10,000 knights stand tall behind, proud of the work they have done.  _

_ But no one else stands with them. Solitary statues they make, stagnant, molding, decaying, and ignoring it all. _

_ To see the cracks is to turn away from the light. _

_ His eyes burn. His lips break. The breath leaves him. _

_ He is burnt away. _

_ It is inevitable. _

He woke the second day, his head heavy and foggy with lack of rest. He knew Obi Wan and his mother would be expecting him back, but the answers he found were no better than the answers from the night before. 

Anakin returned to the Lars home for water, and food, thanking them again.

“Weren’t you heading back?” the son asked. If he remembered, his name was Owen, but he couldn’t say that he thought to remember at all. 

He just smiled, and shook his head. “I was going to, yeah. And if anyone comes asking for me, let them know I went back out.”

“You’re going back out again? What are you searching for?”

The first night he’d only found darkness. And the second, a scorching burning light. Neither sat well with him. But how to explain that to anyone outside of his own head? 

So he shrugged, and tried to laugh, “Would you believe me if I’m thinking of building a house out there?”

Owen Lars looked at him like he’d grown not a second, but a third head. “There’s nothing out there, but--...”

“Yeah, trust me, I know,” he sighed, thanking the Lars family one last time before leaving. “I grew up around these parts.”

His third and final trip out to the desert, he walked some distance, until he was in the middle of the dunes, and realized his mistake. He tried to find something within himself that spoke to the energy around him, but that only summoned up the image of the valley of bones. He tried to quell any and all feelings, and he could sense that that would just lead him once more to the cliff. The Force, as far as he could tell, only led him to either. And those paths just would not do. He thought again of his visions-- _ inevitable.  _

“What am I supposed to do?” he grumbled to himself. “I’m just going in circles. I’ll get the same answers every time. Isn’t there… Anything? Anything else?” His heart, his very soul, felt cold, torn asunder by that word, that chilling sensation like something tight and strong held fast to his wrists, to his throat, to his ankles, demanding he move only in one direction or the other.  _ Inevitable.  _ Whatever choice he made, it damned the galaxy. Wherever he walked, doom followed.

Was that who he was to be? 

Chosen One, they’d called him.

Is that what he was chosen for?

It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let it be. Unbidden, hot, heavy tears fell from his face, and his hands shook. 

“What is this? What is the point of this?” he called out into the empty dark. 

There were no answers here. There never would be. 

Why had he even come?

He sank to the ground, and pawed at the sand, letting the sharp grains cut his skin. He could hear it: a storm was picking up. Of course it was. But what good was it to move and get out of the way? He was miles away from shelter. And that word still sang throughout his thoughts, and if these ends were truly  _ inevitable,  _ would it not be better to end it now? Save the galaxy from its Chosen One?

The Jedi had been right to hate him.

He would doom them all. One way or another.

So he closed his eyes, and embraced  _ Inevitable. _

The wind whipped the sharp grains of sand across the skin of his face, ripping into soft flesh, entering his nose, his mouth, choking, suffocating.

The sound echoed his visions, thousands of breaking hearts crying out at both the light and the dark. Maybe he could fall into it, and become just one of the thousand. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe...

_ Anakin. _

Obi Wan? No… 

_ Anakin.  _ He felt the voice more than heard it. It was deep, and gentle, and familiar. The tall, honest Jedi of his earliest dreams. Qui Gon Jinn spoke, somehow, through the Force. Or else it was the memory of him, he couldn’t say. If this was another vision, he wasn’t sure he could handle it… But he let the sensation wash over him: he was floating, weightless and senseless, and yet feeling the weight and sense and hopes and fears of every living thing at once. But once focused, all he felt, and all he heard, were his and Qui Gon’s voices.

_ What is this place? _

_ Nothing but another dream, Anakin.  _

_ So my dreams aren’t real then? But they feel… _

_ I never said they were not real, Anakin.  _

_ So before… _

_ Possibilities.  _

_ So… They can be avoided? _

_ Every Prophecy only tells of possibilities. There are many paths which they may take. You must follow and create your own. _

_ How? How can I do that, Qui Gon?  _

_ You were always good at making things, Anakin. You must be open to learn how. _

_ Are you really here? _

_ Qui Gon? _

_ Qui Gon? _

“Anakin?” 

He coughed up a great deal of sand waking up the third morning. His eyes were crusted over, and more than ever, his body ached for water, covered in itching scratches that felt like they reached into the very core of him. A cool hand reached for his face, and dusted him off.

“Honestly, Anakin, you’ll be the death of me,” the same voice that called for him spoke, a tone he knew all too well: stern disappointment usually set him on edge, but now, he laughed through his coughing fit.

“Obi Wan,” his voice was weak. He might have overdone this little trip.

“You’re late,” he said, helping him sit up, and handing him a beautiful, preciously dusty canteen of clean, clear water. “Did you at least find what you were looking for?” Obi Wan paused, and perhaps, even looked hopeful. “Do you know what we might be up against?”

Anakin gulped down the water, trying to avoid answering as long as possible. But soon the water was gone. 

And he didn’t have an answer. Not really. 

But maybe that was better than knowing for sure.

“No. But… We’ll figure it out. I know we will.” 


	6. Council Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Council has a mission that only ex-Jedi can fulfill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part One of Attack of the Clones!

Depa Billaba’s warning proved true. On a day that would have been just like any other to the boys on the  _ Miss Reliable,  _ a call came through from a code they recognized all too well.

Obi Wan had quickly answered, desperately running his hands through his hair, his beard, tidying up his clothes, and the immediate area around them, as the holo came into being, lighting the inside of the ship with a faint blue glow. Shmi watched from the far corner, to not be seen, and Anakin had half a mind to join her, wondering if he was part of the mess that Obi Wan was trying so deliberately to mask before the Jedi Council. But he stayed put, by Obi Wan’s side, trying not to think about his dreams from the Tatooine desert.

The first face they saw was Master Yoda’s, but he knew the whole Council was listening. Obi Wan nodded his head, deferentially, about to go into some long apology or other, he could feel it vibrating off of him. Anakin for his part, remained quiet. Yoda seemed to understand this, and lifted a hand to stop Obi Wan before he could begin, choosing instead to smile at the two of them.

“Long it has been, since last we saw you, my friends. Much has changed about you,” it sounded friendly, but Anakin was beginning to really understand friendliness hid much. Yoda was disturbed, by what, Anakin didn’t know. But his eyes held a deep hurt… And suspicion. That much at least hadn’t changed.

Obi Wan was embarrassed. His face was red, and he couldn’t seem to settle on looking at the old master. But he didn’t forget his training. “Indeed, much has changed,” was he ashamed? Wasn’t all this what they wanted? Anakin couldn’t help but grumble beside him, and Obi Wan didn’t even send him a chastising look.

“Grown much, you have, Anakin,” Yoda added quickly, a playful smirk on his lips. “A man, you are now?”

Anakin wasn’t much better than Obi Wan. Sullen as he felt, he folded his hands before him, and nodded a quick bow. “I just turned 19, Master.”

“Last week,” Shmi couldn’t help but add, and she shrunk back into the dark, as Yoda glanced over to where she was.

His small green features were clouded for a moment. Displeased, surprised, disappointed, Anakin couldn’t say. But he left it well enough alone. It wasn’t Jedi business anymore who their family was. He wasn’t sure it ever should have been.

“Happy to see you so healthy and grown, I am,” Yoda’s voice quickly turned serious, and that look of barely hidden hurt was once again darkening his features. “But more dangerous matters have we to discuss.”

The holo dissolved, and reformed to show Mace Windu, his hands clasped in front of him, deep in thought, even as he explained to them the reason for this call, “An acquaintance of yours from the past, Senator Amidala, was attacked today while arriving to vote on an important Senate matter.”

Anakin’s blood ran cold, “Is she alright? Is she safe?” Obi Wan placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and he stopped, but that didn’t stop his heart from pounding ragefully in his chest.  _ This  _ was what the Jedi called them for? Were they accusing them? Were they going to tell them that she was… She was…

Master Windu’s emotions were always unflappable. Even if irritated, his expression hardly changed, and he spoke slowly and carefully, “The Senator is alive and well. Her decoy and several guards were killed however.”

“An assassination attempt,” Mace’s face transformed quickly into Ki-Adi-Mundi’s. “Unsurprising, given her political position, and the opposition she has been facing.”

“What is the matter that they are voting on that would have cause for such aggression?” Obi Wan asked, and Anakin could not help but notice that the Council was reluctant to answer.

Depa Billaba’s face quickly took over, and she did not seem so hesitant. “A number of systems have come together and declared themselves a Confederacy of Independent Systems. They want freedom from, as they say it, the tyranny of the Republic, and its focus on midrim and core worlds. The Senate vote is on whether or not to form a Grand Army of the Republic to face them.” They may have heard rumors to that effect. Anakin had wondered about it, but had been distracted by their everyday work. He remembered thinking that it almost sounded like when the two of them left the Jedi, and that maybe two separate governing bodies could be for the best. But he was no politician.

“Dooku,” Yoda lingered on the name, one Anakin remembered well. The last member of the Lost Twenty, at least before them, if they even counted. Yoda’s Padawan, Qui Gon’s master, and the man that had sent a bounty out on him about five years ago, that they had narrrowly escaped. “Lead by Count Dooku, the Separatists are.”

Neither of them were surprised, but both glanced at each other with wary looks. Did the Council know or suspect Count Dooku’s change. Anakin was eager to speak, to let them know, but Mace Windu’s face returned to the holo, holding up a hand like Yoda had before, to steady Anakin.

“Patience, Young Skywalker. The heart of the matter cannot adequately be discussed over holocomms. We request your presence here, at the Temple. The Council has need of you.”

“The Council acknowledges too that you have no obligation to come here,” Depa interrupted. Though before, he wasn’t sure, Anakin was growing to like her. 

“Ask, we simply do,” Master Yoda stopped Depa before she could continue. He nodded his head, frankly and sadly, “Confer with one another, I am certain, you will want to do. When you are decided, receive you at the Temple we will.”

“What good could we do?” Anakin said, and though he could sense Obi Wan would chastise him for speaking out of turn, he knew that his friend wanted to know that answer too. “We’re just mechanics now. Nobody special.”

Yoda laughed. “Special, a useless measurement of worth, it is. An outside perspective we require. More good you can do with that, I think, than any amount of speciality.”

“Farewell, my friends. Hope to see you soon, we do,” he ended the call as quickly as that. Anakin was still reeling, and while his heart had calmed, nervous energy bounced throughout him. A good punch, directed at him, or him hitting something else, felt like exactly what he needed. Instead, he turned to Obi Wan, hoping to laugh together at how ridiculous this all was. 

But Obi Wan was staring into nothing, very seriously, his hand stroking his beard in deep contemplation.

Anakin let out a noise of disbelief, “You can’t be serious. You can’t be serious!”

“Anakin,” Obi Wan closed his eyes, ready to go off on some lecture, but Anakin wouldn’t have it.

“Didn’t we leave all that behind for a reason? And you want us to jump right back in, as if we never left! I’m not convinced that they don’t want to hold us responsible!”

“Anakin,” Obi Wan stood now, looking exasperated. Well, he’d have to wait his turn! Anakin was exasperated too!

“And to tell us, right off the bat, that Padmé’s in danger, and not tell us that they are doing anything to protect her!” Shmi had come back fully into the room, and was trying to get a hold of him while he paced, but he dodged her arms. He needed to move. He needed to do something, anything, but be here, doing nothing, or worse, at the Temple, doing nothing, and be criticized for it. “I want to help  _ her!  _ I don’t care about the Senate, I don’t care about the Council, I don’t care about Dooku who is a monster and they didn’t even bring that up, Padmé’s in danger, and we’re focused on what? What? Some old man who technically agrees with us even if he tried to kill us? Are they going to pin his crimes on us, just because we too thought we’d be better off without the Council and the Senate breathing down our necks, well we are better off! Aren’t we?”

He stared at Obi Wan, feeling the breath leave him as he saw the doubt creep into his friend’s face. He didn’t agree. He’d made them leave, and he regretted it ever since. He regretted the  _ Miss _ , he regretted Tetra, he regretted saving his mother…

Obi Wan regretted Anakin.

Anakin felt like collapsing, the weight of this truth hitting him like a comet, cold and fiery, and obliterating all too fast. But he stood tall, and held his head high.  _ He  _ didn’t regret a single choice they made. They’d made this life together, and for all its ups and downs, it was a good one. 

“Well, I think we are,” he said, as boldly as he could. Still he could hear the shaking in his voice. His mother took his hand, and this time, he accepted it. He needed it. “We’re free to do whatever we want now, aren’t we? So. I’m free to help Padmé however I want.”

“Anakin, that’s what I want too,” Obi Wan said quietly, and to Anakin’s ears it sounded dispassionate and unconvincing. 

“Good. ‘Cause you’re free to do that too. Let’s go to Coruscant, then. Where you said we should never go back. ‘Cause we’re free to do that, you and I. And you can go to the Council. And I’ll go to Padmé.”

“Anakin,” both Obi Wan and his mother said at the same time, but he was done with this conversation. 

He’d never wanted to hurt Obi Wan. He never wanted to force him into anything. He’d told him, years ago, that that could never be what he wanted. Anakin thought that he’d understood that. 

He slammed the little door he had to his sleeping quarters, stuffed and packed full with what Obi Wan called junk and useless trinkets, and wondered moodily if perhaps he was precisely where he belonged.

It took some convincing, but Obi Wan managed to get Anakin at least to the Temple, though he refused to sit and meet with the Council. He had wanted to go straight to Padmé, but once aware that two lowlife mechanics absolutely did not have, one, the clearance to land anywhere near the Senate, and two, the clearance to even ask to be given audience with a Senator, he begrudgingly agreed to start their trip to Coruscant at the Temple. 

He wasn’t sure what to make of any of this. As much as Anakin was angry to be back, he was angrier still at Obi Wan, and he couldn’t decipher how to make Anakin aware that all that he was feeling, Obi Wan was too. True, a part of him he could not quite deny wanted nothing more than to aid the people who had been his family, to aid the place he’d called home for so long. And yet, ten years with nothing, and all of a sudden, the Council needed them, when they had insisted that the two of them were no longer Jedi? Instinct told him something here was not right, and he couldn’t place that either. Something larger was afoot, beyond accusations like Anakin worried over, beyond even looking into something under the radar for the Jedi, a task though unusual, not completely out of the ordinary for the Council. Quinlan Vos, a little older, but still of age with Obi Wan, often went undercover to eliminate as much organized crime as he could. But that Count Dooku was involved…

Not a single thing felt right to Obi Wan. To the point where both Anakin and he agreed to leave Shmi behind on Takodana with Tetra before doing anything. She’d fought them on it, but whatever den of trouble they were heading into, neither of them could see a result that didn’t involve danger. And much worse danger than they had ever faced before. 

“I see you look the part,” Anakin said, as they left the  _ Miss Reliable _ ’s hangar, and walked up the steps to the Temple. 

Obi Wan frowned, unsure of what that meant, until Anakin nodded to his clothes. 

He felt himself flush at that. True, he’d been wearing these past 10 years mostly civilian clothes. Armored clothing, the type that scoundrels and working folk alike wore to insure that whatever difficult work they did, it didn’t leave too big a bruise. But he’d never been truly comfortable in any of that. He hated having to choose something every day, something that would make him stand out, like Anakin always seemed to pick. Anakin took to style with panache--he wanted everyone to look at him, in his deep crimson and black stylings, jackets with metal bands all over, and pants with one red stripe down the leg. Obi Wan found he’d just grab things, anything that seemed ordinary, and fit well. His focus was on practicality, and ease of movement, as it had always been with his Jedi robes. And today, well… Maybe he’d picked something that reflected a bit more of his old style as a Jedi than anything that could be mistaken for civilian. But it was practical! It was respectful! 

None of those arguments would keep Anakin from thinking that he was sucking up though. And perhaps, subconsciously, he was. These were his Masters, the guardians of everything he’d ever known, the guides by which he understood the Force. He wanted them to know he hadn’t forgotten any of that. Even if he had left it behind. 

He shook his head at Anakin, waving him away as Anakin began to smirk, “It’s nothing.”

“I didn’t even know you still  _ had  _ robes!”

The argument was abandoned inside. The Temple Guards at the door let them in, without question, as if they had never left. Younglings raced down the main hall, only to be admonished affectionately by Jocasta Nu. She smiled at him brightly before resuming her tasks.

It felt like a dream.

A part of him felt his old Padawan tense in the Force, obviously having a very different reaction to seeing their old stomping grounds. But he was too enamored with the familiarity of it all. The soft, easy smell of jasmine filled the air, pouring in from one of the many Temple Gardens. Coupled with the scent of leather, smooth and earthy, and the enticing aroma of the communal hall, where breads of all sorts from all planets were baked and prepared for long journeys. Everything was bright here. Not overwhelming, just a gentle light pouring in from all sides, illuminating the white marble of the walls and pillars, reflecting the inner light they all had within them. Idle chatter almost never filled the Temple walls--there was a sort of quiet, filled not by voices, not in the way that crowded bars, and ships had, where a cacophony was the norm. This quiet was filled by prayer. Contemplation. Soft spoken words, rarely spoken, but never useless or idle--always with purpose, always with intention. 

He’d been anxious to return. Worried about the future, the Council’s need of them, what could possibly come of all this… But here, within these walls, he felt at peace. 

His heart sank as he remembered Anakin’s face before--distraught, a little part of him broken. He didn’t know what caused it until now, but he felt this peace like a betrayal. 

Obi Wan felt like he’d come home, and he knew Anakin could not feel the same.

His revery was broken by their arrival at the Council’s door. Anakin had his arms crossed, and though he tried to stand cocky and self-assured, he still held his arms like a Jedi would. “I guess this is where I leave you. I’ll just be wandering, until you come back with what we’re here for and we can go see Padmé.”

“Don’t pout, Anakin, we’ll see her soon,” Obi Wan tried to tease. Anakin just glared even more intensely. He sighed, and relented, “I’ll try to be quick.”

“We’ll see if  _ they _ are,” Anakin said, turning and walking off down the hall to some other end of the Temple. That was another matter to fix, as soon as possible. But for now, it was probably best to let him blow off some steam.

Obi Wan turned towards the Council door as Depa opened it, smiling warmly, and let him inside. 

“No Anakin, I see,” she whispered to him as they walked inside.

There wasn’t much time to respond, but she smiled in understanding even so, taking her seat with the Council as he stood in the center, all eyes on him.

“Obi Wan Kenobi,” Master Windu said by way of a greeting. “Welcome home.”

He nodded, bowing before the masters, trying not to react at all to that statement. He thought of Anakin instead, and remained quiet.

“Where is Young Skywalker?” Plo Koon asked. A question he knew he wouldn’t get out of, and still he felt himself scrambling to answer.

Depa saved him, “As this is a delicate matter, I let Young Skywalker tour the grounds. Obi Wan here will explain what is necessary for his former Padawan to know, but we should not burden the boy with more information than necessary.”

“A wise decision,” Master Windu said, and Obi Wan was not sure he agreed, but he kept silent. Master Windu continued, “As we spoke of before, an assassination attempt has been made on Senator Amidala’s life. The Jedi have been tasked with keeping the Senator safe, and uncovering her would be assassin.”

“There is some thought to Separatist involvement, I understand?” Obi Wan asked. They had not covered this much in their brief call, but he had gathered that much. It still didn’t make much sense: these were large political matters. How Obi Wan and Anakin could help, he was not just yet able to puzzle out. Perhaps they wanted Padmé to go undercover with them? Or to spy on the Separatists and uncover the truth that way? He hoped at least that they would not have to do anything that brought them too close to Dooku.

“Dooku, Senator Amidala claims, has put out the order for her assassination.” He hoped too soon. Obi Wan remembered seeing the Count from afar, rescuing Anakin as they had. He doubted the man had wanted to be revealed so soon, and yet, all had been revealed when he ignited his lightsaber. Obi Wan still wondered if it had just been a trick of the light, or if he had seen with his own two eyes the former Jedi Master ignite his blade, red as blood. 

With a coolness he seldom used, he nodded, “I hesitate to make assumptions, but I can believe it.”

The Council seemed surprised. “Truly?” Master Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, while Plo Koon continued, “You have had dealings with the Count of late?”

“He set a bounty on Anakin,” now it was a memory that induced eye rolls, and polite chuckles remembering Shmi’s bravery, and Anakin’s cock-suredness. But he couldn’t forget the fear he felt at the time. How foolish the whole ordeal made him feel. How cold the air felt even in the shuttle when he gazed upon Count Dooku. But did the Council need to know the whole of it? He bit his lip, and then explained a bit further, “We… Can’t be sure, and neither of us trust our memory on the matter, but… The Force felt cold around him. Anakin swears he saw a red blade.”

A quiet fell over the Council. Master Yoda looked pained, closing his eyes against the world for a moment.

“Keep that quiet, we will, until certain, we are. But proves, this does, our judgment was right,” Yoda opened his eyes and pointed to him, “Investigate this assassination attempt, we can. But only so much. Master Luminara Unduli, handle that, she will.”

Luminara bowed her head gracefully, accepting the role with grace and dignity.

“Then… we are to protect the Senator?” Obi Wan asked, and he was hopeful. Because that would make Anakin happy, and keep them out of harm's way, and the other option… The other option felt like the ground was crumbling out from under him. 

Which, of course, is what it had to be, “Master Unduli’s Padawan, Barriss Offee, will take the Senator undercover back to her home world. You two have the unique position of no position at all, and a previous dealing with the Count. We ask that you help us apart from this Senate investigation. We ask that you look into Count Dooku and his dealings… For the Jedi only,” Plo Koon said it all with the appropriate hesitation and gravitas. Even the Masters were aware of what they asked of him and Anakin. And they too, were as uneasy about the prospect as Obi Wan began to feel.

“The Senate is to be kept out of this investigation?” he said only because the things he truly wanted to say were beginning to pile up. Where did they expect them to begin? How were they supposed to find and gain an audience with someone who had tried to kidnap Anakin before? What good did it do to make this a Jedi matter only? Why them? Why now?

He breathed in and out, trying to center himself as Master Windu spoke again.

“Until we have more information to present to the Senate, it is the opinion of the Council that if this were to get out, passions and anger would drive the Republic into chaos… into war. We cannot have that.”

“I… I understand.”

“You may begin by joining Master Unduli and Padawan Offee to the Senator’s apartments, and ask questions. But go as assistants, an underworld contact to the Master, or as friends to the Senator. Do not let her know of your own investigation.”

Anakin would not like that. But… At least he’d get to see Padmé. “Understood, Masters,” he said.

“We cannot offer you much help in this investigation, as if we do, it could jeopardize the unique position you hold…” Master Windu continued, and Obi Wan tried to keep his anxiety from rising. He just nodded again.

“Of course,” he wanted to leave. He wanted it to be done and over with.

“We can go over to the Senate apartments now, Master--,” Luminara paused, correcting herself, and Obi Wan was not certain that this was any easier for them. Even so, the slip up was like a punch to the gut. “Obi Wan,” she said with an apologetic smile, and he nodded. They waited to be dismissed, and together they left, in search of their younger partners.

He was not sure where to even begin. But when was he ever?

The Temple had not changed since Anakin had last been there. The walls were still perfectly polished, maintained by droids, custodians, and misbehaving younglings whose masters thought that hard work would reign in their overeager attitudes. Anakin had been so unlucky a handful of times. As he watched a young rodian grumble into a pail of water, he remembered being in the girl’s shoes, grumbling about how he thought being a Jedi was supposed to be more glamorous than this. Occasionally, maybe it was. But he almost wanted to tell her that though maintenance punishments diminished, the frustration remained.

Beyond the little grumbling Rodian, there was nary a flaw in sight. And that he supposed was it’s most frightening aspect. He did not belong here. Not when he was a small, grubby child, with dirt on his face, and darkness in his heart. And he didn’t belong here now, dressed in his dark leathers and his stiff, uneasy manner. Was he always such a noticeable blemish on all this perfection?

_ Inevitable,  _ a dangerous voice said deep in the back of his mind. He tried to push it away, watching the convers flutter and gather outside. Even random wild birds were perfectly at ease here. He scowled, and leaned against the wall sullenly.

“Who are you?” A young voice spoke up, helping him escape his brooding. At first, he looked back to where the Rodian had been, but she was still hard at work. He turned the other way, and had to look straight down before finding her. A small Togruta girl, watching him with a great deal of suspicion. “I’ve never seen you around the temple before.”

“Who's asking?” He shot back. He wasn’t in the mood for overly serious and suspicious younglings. If she wanted trouble, she’d have to look elsewhere.

“I am. Ahsoka Tano, soon to be Padawan learner! And you look like you’re trespassing!”

Looking elsewhere did not occur to her. He raised a brow and laughed, “Soon to be Padawan learner? Well, which is it? Are you currently a Padawan learner or are you not? Who is your master?”

“Who’s asking?” she demanded, and he really laughed. This kid was a fast learner.

“Anakin Skywalker. Ex-Padawan Learner.”

Her eyes grew wide. He’d wondered sometimes if the kids had to learn about him and Obi Wan along with the Lost Twenty. Now Lost Twenty-Two, it seemed. But her surprise was quickly covered by her frown, “How do I know that’s the truth? What’s an ex-Padawan even doing here anyway?”

“What are you snipping at me for, Snips?” He wasn’t quite sure what to do with children. Obi Wan would surely say something like he was barely not one himself. But at least he knew when to leave well enough alone. He tried to shoo her off, and she affronted, shooed back, “Get back to your master, do something useful!”

“I—,” she frowned deeper, embarrassed about something, but flipped that into snipping again at him, “My name’s Ahsoka! Not Snips!”

“What? Does the soon to be Padawan learner not yet have a master? So she’s just…,” he fake gasped, and clutched his chest, “A youngling?!”

“I do too have a master! Just. Not officially yet! Master Plo says we’re not ready!”

The two traded barbs for a few moments more, until a polite cough sounded behind him. They turned as one, and an older Padawan, maybe his age, maybe a bit younger, stared them down with clear and apparent distaste. The green young woman sighed, and spoke, soft spoken, but stern, “I believe I am correct in assuming that you are, Anakin Skywalker? I am Barriss Offee. I’ve been sent to fetch you. My Master and I are escorting you and your friend to the Senatorial apartments.”

“Oh?” This was a surprise, but not necessarily unwelcome. He didn’t think they needed an escort, but if it was the only way he was going to see Padmé, he’d take it. “Lead the way!”

“Youngling,” Barris said to Ahsoka, a careful sound just teetering on the edge of disciplinary, while sounding lightly playful. If only Obi Wan had learned that trick. 

Ahsoka Tano jumped, and nodded, ready to follow orders and resume whatever duties she’d been neglecting. He had to laugh, “See you later, Snips!”

She glared back at him as she dashed off, but left with one last jab, “Unlikely, Skyguy!”

She was too much. He chuckled, but stopped as soon as he met Barriss’s gaze again. “Kids, huh?” He offered and she just closed her eyes for a moment, and pressed forward.

They walked together, towards the front of the Temple where speeders and ships were kept. It was a bit of a walk, and he was never one easy with silence.

“So, who’s your master? Just out of curiosity.”

“Master Luminara Unduli,” she said, carefully, but a hint of respect, admiration, and affection colored her voice with a subtle warmth. She was a reserved girl. Mirialian, like he recalled Master Luminara being as well.

“Do you like working with her?”

“My Master is a good teacher, and a great Jedi.”

That felt a pretty standard response. He wasn’t used to talking to Jedi anymore. He puffed air out of his cheeks, trying to make conversation, “But do you like her? Like are you friends?”

Barriss frowned, and glanced at him with something that maybe could have been amusement. He’d have to chase that, “You’ve been away from Temple a long time, Anakin Skywalker, if you don’t know what I mean by her being my Master.”

“So you know who I am?” He smiled. “That’s something! What do you know?”

“Everyone knows who you are, Anakin,” her amusement left her face quite suddenly. “But no one knows why you left.”

“Really? Why? It’s not like it’s a secret, is it?”

She did not answer that, lost in thought, or annoyed by all the questions, he couldn’t rightly say… But she was definitely troubled. It radiated off of her, a quick jolt of tangled unease and confusion. It was gone just as quickly as it came. 

She was a good Jedi.  _ Better than me _ , he thought, and it wasn’t a bitter one.

Their older companions came into view quickly after that. Obi Wan looked like a picture, waiting there with Luminara, staring off into the bright horizon of Coruscant. His robes might not have been official Jedi wear, but he looked easy. Carefree. Like he belonged here.

That one. That might have been a bitter thought.

The shuttle there was awkwardly quiet after their role in all of this had been explained by Luminara. Anakin was not pleased, but he wasn’t necessarily as disappointed as he figured Obi Wan was worried he’d be. Now, he was simply trying not to think about it, and worrying fully on seeing Padmé again. 

His foot was tapping, and he kept smoothing out the little patch of fuzz he’d been trying to grow on his face. It wasn’t until Obi Wan gently kicked his shoe that he even realized that he was doing all this, and his nerves weren’t just obvious, but palpable in the Force. It seemed the whole shuttle was on edge as a result. He chuckled, feeling minorly guilty, and glanced at Obi Wan in apology.

“She’ll be very happy to see you. No need to be nervous,” Obi Wan whispered to him, and while he appreciated the sentiment, that did nothing to quell his beating heart. 

“I just,” he started, but how did you end the thought? And with others beyond Obi Wan here, he felt embarrassed to even think the rest. He’d thought about Padmé every day for the past ten years. In his mind’s eye, she still was that angel he first saw her as. Glowing, kind, and a beautiful, flowing blue in the endless desert yellows and reds and oranges of his life. She put his soul at ease to think of--if only that were the case now. While no conscious visions of how all could go badly crossed his mind, his stomach flipped and his heart broke all in preparation for whatever heartbreak he would certainly meet upon seeing her again. 

No amount of meditation was helping. Obi Wan kept teasing him gently, trying to keep his mind off of his worries as they followed Luminara and Barriss into the elevator, up to her apartments, at her door, and each step closer and closer, his breath became shallower, more hurried. 

Maybe this was how he died? 

But no. When the door opened and the handmaiden ushered them in, and she turned to face them all.

This was how he lived.

Padmé Amidala was precisely as he remembered her. Small in stature, but not in spirit, the power of her will, her grace, and her kindness emanated from her like starlight. He’d met her when she was disguised, and dressed not plainly as he’d understood it then, but plainly for herself. Here and now she was clearly in her element, in a dark blue gown, her hair done up in some amazing twisted style that framed her square face just so. Many would call her pretty like a painting come to life, but it was the life in her that was beautiful. The ferocity in her brown eyes that shined eternal. The glimmer of cleverness that hid behind every smile, every look. She hadn’t even noticed him and Obi Wan yet, her face a mask of careful professionalism, and he still was lost completely in her.

But then, as Luminara prepared to introduce them, she saw them first. A frown of recognition quickly erupted into an enormous, warm smile, “Obi Wan! And Little Ani! My, you’re all grown up!”

That stun, but he could ignore that. She remembered him. He pressed forward (perhaps too close—Luminara and Padmé’s guards all tensed, but no more than that), and marveled at how small she was now. “I missed you, Padmé,” he wanted to say so much more, but he struggled to know what. And the moment passed as she smiled, and laughed, and looked back to Obi Wan and Luminara.

“I understand this is a serious situation, but four Jedi Knights just to protect one Senator? That seems a bit much, does it not?”

Anakin froze. Obi Wan moved beside him, ready to correct, to save him, but Luminara spoke first, “Obi Wan and Anakin are no longer Jedi, Senator. Rather, they are interested third parties the Council has asked to aid in the investigation, to uncover matters Jedi and the Senate would not be able to.”

She frowned at the two of them, clearly confused. “Interested Third Parties? Well, what does that mean?”

“Ah, it’s a favor really,” Obi Wan began, but Barriss finished for him.

“They are mechanics, Senator. They left the Jedi Order years ago. They have simply had… dealings that could help understand the extent of the investigation.”

Well, it stood to reason that Luminara and her Padawan were just as uneasy and displeased with their involvement as Anakin and Obi Wan were. It was uncomfortable, but since when had Anakin cared about that? He was with Padmé, they were helping to protect her, however best they could, their dealings would find Dooku and get to the bottom of all of this better than if they had been Jedi.

And yet, Padmé looked up at him once more… and seemed sad. Disappointed. Let down. But that wasn’t half as painful as what she said, “Ani… You’re just a mechanic? What happened?”

That. That cut like a knife.

“Well, apparently that’s a secret, from what I’ve gathered from our two  _ real  _ Jedi here. Still, apparently not real enough Jedi to figure out alone who is trying to assassinate you. Oh, excuse me. Dooku. Or why he’s trying to assassinate you. What do we know, anyway, right? We’re just mechanics.”

Obi Wan grabbed him, and the room went silent. All eyes were on him, except the eyes that mattered. He’d ruined it. Just like that, he’d ruined it all.

Luminara broke the silence, eyeing them carefully, “If conversation is quite finished… Tomorrow, Barriss will be taking you to Naboo, where you will be safe.”

“I still maintain that that’s unnecessary,” Padmé said, and he wanted her to look at him, but she was avoiding looking at everyone. She’d moved ahead to packing with her handmaidens. 

“Your safety is our utmost priority, Senator,” Barriss said. 

“The utmost priority should be Dooku.”

“We do not have proof yet that it is him,” Luminara moved towards the window, gazing out at the city below. 

“But we have third parties investigating him without any oversight?” Padmé was trying, he could tell, to keep her cool, but she threw the garment she’d been trying to fold haphazardly into her bag. “What if Dooku finds out about this little operation? What will be the political ramifications of sending… Spies after him?”

“None, Senator,” Obi Wan finally spoke, and his calm demeanor set an ease over all of them they needed. “We have had our own separate dealings with Dooku in the past. His ego won’t let him see us as a danger, and with how vulnerable he found us before, he won’t possibly suspect that we are now on a mission from the Jedi. We are going in without any support, as we always do. None of what we do will possibly come back to Coruscant.”

She did not look convinced, her doubt was hidden away by the immense sadness she had looking at Obi Wan, and just wondering about it all. Anakin would tell her everything if he could. But now was not the time. He knew. He stepped out from the room, unwilling to wait for permission. Whatever else they had to say or ask, that was up to Obi Wan. He couldn’t be there anymore, knowing how much pity she had for him. It was unbearable.

Later, as evening fell, and the Senator retired, Barriss fetched him again, bringing him back to the foyer where they had all been talking before. Apparently, they needed to be appraised of what Obi Wan and he’s strategy would be for their investigation, now that he’d gotten his answers from Padmé.

“I suspect we’ll have to make our way to Serreno at some point, but perhaps we’ll start with the Guild. They won’t tell us much, but maybe someone in the know around those areas will be willing to share something,” Obi Wan was quietly tugging at his beard, lost in thought. Luminara seemed to agree with this strategy, bizarrely.

“Is that based on any kind of lead?” He asked as he and Barriss entered, and once more all eyes were on him and the whole room tensed. He hated that he had that effect.

“The Senator does not know much, it’s just… A gut feeling, as she described it,” Obi Wan said.

“Well, we know that it’s Dooku, of course it is, but the why of the matter won’t be answered away from here. We have to catch the man that’s actually after her! Whoever Dooku hired!”

“That is not your assignment, young man,” Luminara’s voice was steady, and though he could tell she was trying not to pass judgment, it was decidedly cold. 

“Our assignments overlap! We should be working together! Why are you so eager to get us off planet so we can’t do anything, hm?”

Barriss once more let off that moment of electric fast doubt, but buried it. Anakin wasn’t about to lose a potential ally though. 

“What do you think, Padawan? Your feelings on this matter just as much!”

“I—,” she began, but froze.

A chill went through all four of them.

“I sense it too,” Obi Wan said, and they rushed for Padmé’s chambers.

It all happened in an instant, really. Anakin stormed in first, but Barriss got to the matter at hand more quickly. With a thrust of her hand, the insects were lifted into the air, and with a quick whip of his lightsaber, they were destroyed. Luminara set about to investigate the creatures, but Obi Wan spotted the droid responsible first…

So he leapt at it.

_ Not one of my brighter moments,  _ he thought, as it began to zoom away. 

Worse yet, he was teaching by example. Anakin jumped right after him. He soon lost sight of him as the droid began to shake and rattle, trying to pry Obi Wan loose. He could hold tight forever if need be—unfortunately, whoever owned the droid seemed to be aware of this.

It was quickly shot out of the sky, and he and the droid began to fall.

If there was any time to panic, it should have been now, but he was strangely calm as he fell through rush hour Coruscant traffic. And lo and behold: his fall was broken quite quickly by Anakin in a stolen yellow speeder.

“What took you so long?” He said, trying to focus instead of laugh. But really, this speeder was a ridiculous thing. Too sporty, not remotely fuel efficient, it wouldn’t last two years.

Anakin smirked, “Well, you know, I couldn’t find one I really liked.”

Obi Wan spotted their target as they pulled out from behind an alcove, and the chase was on.

It occurred to him to wonder how Luminara and Barriss would follow, but that was a question for another time.

Anakin much preferred the chasing to being chased. If this thrill electrifying all his senses and coursing through his veins was anything to go by, he’d have to ask Obi Wan if they wanted to officially switch to the Bounty Hunting profession. Maybe they were onto something.

Their target was an adequate flyer—better suited to these dense urban areas than Anakin, but if he pictured a canyon, with looping rock poles and mudslides all around, it wasn’t too much different. And truth be told, nobody was a better flyer than Anakin.

At one point a turn led them to lose their target briefly, and while Obi Wan chastised him for it, he’d already found them below, and jumped.

When he landed on the craft, they obviously maneuvered and swerved every which way to buck him off, but he was a man with a singular mission. He clung to the ship, and pried open the back hatch, and begun to tinker. Soon the ship slowed, and the bounty hunter desperately tried to flee out of their vehicle and onto another. But Anakin had prepared for that. He maneuvered to the side door to gloat.

“Sorry, safety lock got jammed! I have no idea how that happened!” He said, but he should have been paying attention. A blast hit the trans peri steel, shattering, and he leapt up into the air to dodge. The hunt was on again as their target jumped from one vehicle to a ledge, and took off running.

With a sigh, and hanging from another angry motorist, Anakin swung back and made chase yet again. 

Maybe bounty hunting wasn’t as much fun on the ground.

Obi Wan had watched it all from above them, and tried to keep up, but flying against traffic had certainly set his nerves on edge.

Dodging left and right as angry passers by yelled at him and shook their fists in a variety of crude signs, he’d almost thought he’d lost them once they’d slowed down.

But then he saw their target land on a platform towards the left of him, and once again, he was in pursuit, flying above the building they’d landed on, and hoping to cut them off at the other end. 

And cut them off he did, parking the speeder swiftly and jumping out of it to land in front of the bounty hunter just as they raised their blaster, and cutting the damn thing in half.

Some of her fingers went with the blaster, and she doubled over herself, grasping her hand in pain, as Anakin caught up.

The woman before they swiftly transformed back into a young, female clawdite. Anakin made a face, but Obi Wan ignored him, and leaned towards the bounty hunter.

“It’s over. We just want to ask you a few questions.”

“Who the hell are you? You don’t look like any Jedi I’ve seen before,” she snapped, her multitonal voice coming forward slowly as her disguise continued to slip away.

“Well, you’re in luck, we’re not Jedi,” Anakin bragged, and Obi Wan glared at him. “What? That way you know you’re safe from prison or whatever,” he winked. He wasn’t sure if it was some attempt at deception or if Anakin really was going to forgive and forget an attack on Padmé. He doubted it. 

The bounty hunter pulled a face, “You’re not those guys are you? The ones everyone talks about with their stupidly exorbitant prices? What gives, first you charge an arm and a leg for bounty hunters, then you cut off my fingers?”

Obi Wan sighed. This was getting ridiculous, “What’s your name? Who hired you?”

It took a moment, but she looked between the two of them, and seemed to decide her fate was better off in their hands than anyone else. “I’m Zam. Zam Wessell. I was working for—!”

It was too fast to stop. The dart entered her skin and the poison took over her just as quickly. She slumped over, into Obi Wan’s arms, while Anakin looked everywhere for some sign of where the assailant had gone. But there was too much noise here, too much moving around to tell for sure. 

He took the dart out of her skin, just as Luminara arrived in a Jedi speeder. She did not look happy.

Without a word to them, she knelt over the body still laying in Obi Wan’s lap, and examined her.

“Zam Wessell, a bounty hunter. She was killed by this just before she could tell us who she worked for,” he said, quickly. He wasn’t sure Luminara heard him, as she took the body, retrieving what bit of identifying information she could off of her, and stood.

Obi Wan stood with her, still holding the dart out to her, “Perhaps this would be of help?”

Finally, she turned to them. She was not one to raise her voice, and she was not one to succumb too fully to her feelings. But she glared, and spoke as evenly and coolly as possible, “What would have been of help would have not been leaping out of tall buildings, dashing thoughtlessly to the rescue. What would have been of help would have been to have this bounty hunter alive, and followed, so eventually we would have discovered her secrets. What would have helped would have been if you two had not come to Coruscant at all. But that is speculation, and useless to think about now,” she breathed deeply, and nodded towards her speeder. “Barriss is back with the Senator, keeping her safe, and calming her down. Would you like a ride back, so that you may begin your half of this operation?”

“Leave? Is that what you mean?” Anakin said, looking to start something, but Obi Wan was certain this was all a misunderstanding. He held his hand out to Anakin and moved towards Luminara’s side, once again gesturing with the dart.

“I do apologize. I acted on instinct. But I still believe we have a lead here, important to both of our investigations!”

“I say this with the utmost respect for who you used to be, Obi Wan,” she said, and her voice was warmer, but her tone still even and her eyes would not look at him. “You do not have an investigation I think is worthy of the Jedi Order. What you and I are doing are entirely separate, and my Padawan and I want nothing to do with your… Errand.”

He balked. He wasn’t sure what to say to any of that. But Luminara continued, finally looking at him, now with pity.

He felt ill.

“I am one of the few that know why you left. I think it was an honorable sacrifice to make for your Padawan. I do not think that you have any business left here, and I worry about the direction your presence pulls the Council. I urge you to realize that it is in all our best interests for you to abandon this course, and go home.”

She meant well. He knew she did. And yet, every bit of joy he had felt since returning had evaporated. He wondered if this was how Anakin had felt their entire time here, and for a moment, he agreed with her, that they should never have come here.

But they did have a job to do. And perhaps Jedi involvement in that task would simply be a complication.

He tucked the dart, so unique and striking it was, clearly a distinct model, into his pockets, and nodded somberly.

He did not say anything, nor did it seem Luminara expected him to. She nodded as well, and left them to find their own way back to their ship and off Coruscant.

“Are we just gonna leave?” Anakin asked, bewildered by the entire exchange.

“I’m hungry, are you hungry?” Was all he said back.

They would leave. But he had a stop to make first.

It occurred to Obi Wan that with the connections they had built up both in the working world and underworld, that they had no need for Jedi resources, and he could have hopped into any lowlife bar and just asked around for the information he required.

Anakin even teased that they could ask one person in particular, but Obi Wan pretended (like he always did) to not know who Anakin was speaking of. Besides, a bounty of this magnitude could be on his radar. They could not discount the duros as a suspect, though Obi Wan dreaded another complicated and likely confusing encounter.

But even before their lives as mechanics, Obi Wan had made friends in strange places. When he was a boy, under Qui Gon’s tutelage, he often frequented a little Coruscant diner, a dive really, owned and operated by a strange but delightful fellow indeed. Ex-prospector, ex-investigator, Dexterr Jettster was many things, and the Obi Wan had helped him run a sting operation against local thieves in exchange for good food and stories many a time.

They would start with Dex. More often than not, it was the best place to start.

Anakin had decided instead to fetch their ship, and park nearby, asking only for some food brought back to him. One look at the little diner had been enough for Anakin to know he’d rather do something more interesting, but Obi Wan couldn’t help but smile. The old place was exactly as he remembered, brightly colorful, yet grimy. Cozy, yet cramped. He entered smiling, and smiled even wider when Dex saw him and recognized him with a big, friendly and booming, “OBI WAN!”

The short besalisk lumbered over, and wrapped him in a tight, four-armed embrace. Obi Wan remembered him being enormous, but he’d grown much taller than his old friend over the years. It had them both chuckling.

“You know, I hear stories about you, my friend, and they are wild stories indeed,” Dex said, leading Obi Wan towards a booth. “Is it true? You are no longer a Jedi?”

Obi Wan flushed at that, but shrugged, “It is true, Dex. It’s… Complicated.”

“I am sure that whatever choice you had to make was the right one, and Qui Gon would have stood by you!” 

“You never knew Master Qui Gon,” Obi Wan teased, but he appreciated the sentiment.

“I felt like I did! You talked of him so often! But it’s no matter! You look well! You look healthy! Whatever life you’ve chosen is doing you good!” Dex smiled, and gestured at him meaningfully, “But I am sure this is not just a visit for pleasure, hm? What can I do for you?”

Obi Wan wilted, a little guilty, but Dex made a face to assuage such guilt. With a bit more confidence, he produced the dart that had killed Zam Wessell. “Do you know what this is?”

Dex was a man of many lives (not quite literally), and many talents (very literally). Only Maz Kanata would know more than him, Obi Wan would have to guess. And happily, as Dex examined the dart carefully, and chuckled, that guess proved right. “This is a rare beauty indeed, Obi Wan. A Kaminoan Saberdart. You don’t see much of these this far into the Core Worlds.”

“Kaminoan?”

“Kamino, a Outer Rim World,” Dex scratched under his bulbous chin thoughtfully, “Can’t say I remember precisely where though.”

“That is more than plenty enough to go on though. Thank you so much, Dex. You’ve helped immeasurably,” Obi Wan clapped his friend’s shoulder warmly as he stood, but was unable to escape the vicelike hug before he left. 

“Since you’re no longer a Jedi, I’d ask—.” Obi Wan knew precisely who he was going to say, so they said it together as he left through the door, offering one more smile as a goodbye.

“Maz Kanata. I know.”

Anakin did fetch the ship. And he was going to go pick up Obi Wan. But he had a quick stop first, and if Obi Wan was here, he’d never have the chance.

He landed the ship towards the back end of her apartments, deep in the shadows where the guards and watchful Jedi wouldn’t see. He made his way through the grounds, and hopped onto the balcony of her apartment, hoping to not raise any alarm, all he wanted was to leave his hastily scrawled note, but unfortunately he was spotted.

Luckily, it was her. His angel.

Padmé.

“Padmé!” He said, a bit too loud, and he ducked low, to avoid detection. She turned from where she had been gazing out at the horizon, and looked at him, shocked, surprised, and…

Happy. His heart burst as she smiled, “Anakin? What are you doing here?”

“I—,” he faltered, feeling very foolish all of a sudden. But nothing ventured, nothing gained.

And he felt guilty. About before. He shoved the note at her, and cleared his throat, “I just Uh… I wanted to apologize. I behaved… I was an idiot. Before. I didn’t think I’d… actually see you though.”

She took the note, glancing over it quickly, her smile reaching all the way to her eyes, and he wondered if he could make her smile like that everyday. How could he get that job? Padmé looked back up at him, holding the note close to her chest, “I… wanted to say sorry too, Ani. I was worried I wouldn’t get to see you again before we both left. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but. I felt that I was dismissive. I apologize.”

He’d been getting better at this. Obi Wan was a mess at expressing these things, but he knew how to manage them better, something Anakin still did not understand. But with his mother onboard the last ten years, the both of them were quietly learning how to improve in this department. And one of the most important things was the Apology. His only hiccup was now he often overdid it, “I mean, I get it, I think it’s a bit deserving of dismissal. But you don’t have to be sorry, I… I could have. I thought about writing you everyday, but,” he had to laugh. He did think about writing her everyday. And everyday, he closed up his datapads with the same thought.  _ Why would she ever want to talk to me?  _

In the night sky, slowly turning towards the pink and yellow hints of dawn, she glowed. Hours ago she’d almost been killed, and here she was living in defiance, glorious and powerful. 

_ Crap, I forgot to ask her if she’s okay!  _ His whole heart fell, “I completely—are you alright? From earlier? Not earlier when I was an ass, but earlier when—we bungled that badly, Padmé, can you ever forgive me?”

“Senator?” A voice called from inside. Both he and Padmé froze. She put a finger to her lips, and rushed him into the shadows before calling back.

“Oh, I’m fine! Just wanted some early morning air, is all! I’ll be in in a minute, Cordé, I promise,” she said, and turned to him, looking a minute away from laughing. “You should go,” he wondered if he was dreaming, or if she looked sad to see him go.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” he whispered, and she shook her head. 

She pressed her lips together, a glimmer in her rich brown eyes, “I’m happy you came. And I’m fine, Anakin, I promise. I wish…” With a deep and decisive breath, she leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, delicately on the cheek, pressing her hands to his. Forever was in this kiss. Every moment of foreseeable joy, sorrow, delight, annoyance, pride, and madness he could ever feel with her filled him, and he was in love more than he had been when he was 9 years old and fallen in love with her for the first time. It felt eternal, always, but it was over as quickly as it had begun and she said goodbye with four beautiful words he’d never stop wanting to hear. “I missed you, Anakin.”

With a parting smile, and a nod to get out of here, quickly, Padmé headed inside.

Anakin was worried he’d be glued to the spot. But soon enough, he found his footing again, and dashed back to the ship, and over to where he promised to pick up Obi Wan.

When he came onboard, Obi Wan gave him some sort of direction, but had to say it a few times before Anakin could hear it and register it. 

“What in the stars has happened to you?” Obi Wan asked him, and how could he tell him?

What had happened to him? A lifetime had happened. And he wanted to live it again and again, just with her, forever.

Takodana was as good a library of information as the Jedi Temple ever had. You just had to know who and what to ask. And occasionally, what it cost.

With Tetra living there, they had their own private landing zone at her home on the edge of the lake looking towards Maz Kanata’s enormous, haphazard castle of sorts. And they never needed to call ahead. They’d land, and Tetra and her boys would rush out, eager to hear tale of the latest misadventure, and count their share of the latest profit margin. 

Today was no different, though Tetra’s oldest boy, Sono, sauntered over more slowly, now that he was nearly a grown man, he didn’t want to seem too overly enthused. C3P0 beat him to the punch to greet them, and was quickly followed by Shmi racing out of Tetra’s home to embrace Anakin.

“What did the Jedi want? Are they through with you? Or are you still? Is there any problem?” she spoke softly, but rapidly.

Anakin tried to soothe, but it was Tetra herself who answered.

“I suspect that whatever business they had with the Jedi ain’t over just yet, or they’d be getting back to work instead of visiting,” she glowered. She had become a bit more bent over the years, and walked now with a makeshift walking stick. “Wookie,” she had said by way of explanation. “Won it in an arm wrestle. That’s why I need it too.” But despite the extra years, Tetra Vurana still had her fire, still was the fiercest and meanest woman they had ever met.

And it was a breath of fresh air to be back with her.

“No, unfortunately, our business with the Jedi is not done. But we have to ask Maz a few questions first,” Obi Wan explained, and immediately felt Tetra’s shrewd scrutiny land on him. “Nothing Maz has done. I just suspect that she knows more than the Jedi on this particular matter.”

“You suspect right,” Tetra said with a sigh. “But you don’t want to give your ok’ Tetra a whack at it first?”

Anakin laughed, “Do you know where Kamino is?”

Tetra frowned, and raised her short stature to its full height to look Anakin dead in the eye (much harder to do now that he was grown.) After a moment where Anakin felt sufficiently like he was 15 again and he’d accidentally broken a power converter, Tetra deflated.

“Ask Maz,” she grumbled, and he and Sono laughed good naturedly about that. 

They walked over together to Maz’s Palace, leaving C3P0 and Tetra’s boys to watch over the shop and home. Shmi could not help but touch Anakin all over, adjusting his collar, and fussing with his hair. Obi Wan did his best to stay by Tetra’s side, worrying that if he was in Shmi’s line of sight, he’d get the same treatment.

“She’s asking a lot after the two of you,” Tetra grumbled. “We worry for you, you know.”

Obi Wan shook his head, and smiled warmly at his old friend, “There’s no need, Tetra. I am perfectly capable of keeping Anakin safe.”

She shook her head, tutting at him. “Men like you, Obi Wan, are so attuned to others that you don’t even know when you’re the one whose in trouble.”

“I don’t understand.”

She gave him a good once over, and then looked to Anakin, once more lost in a daze of thought. She spoke again, after awhile, and there were years of heartache in her voice, “Anakin knows what it is to be cared for. His danger is a powerful one, to be sure. But we’re all doing our best to teach him how to temper that big ol’ heart of his, how to mature it. It’s you, I’m worried about.” She gestured with her walking stick towards Obi Wan, pointing at his robes. “I don’t know if you know where you are.”

He didn’t mean to, but that annoyed him. He spoke too curtly, “I am perfectly aware of Anakin’s own position on my current state, thank you. I did not think you would share it, but I know what you all think, and it’s not true. I know who I am.”

“Do you? I don’t know who I am,” she frowned, and he was actually quite surprised. Tetra never seemed the sort to doubt herself. She was so assured, so over the top in making every aspect of herself known. But he looked more closely, and suddenly the stern lines on her face looked more like the lines of regrets. That twinkle in her eyes that suggested she knew more than you had an edge he couldn’t quite place. The way she jut out her bottom lip always spoke of arrogance, but just now he saw it tremble. He was stunned. “It’s a lifelong journey, knowing who you are. And a chapter of your life closed so abruptly, that you wonder if it meant to at all. I don’t blame you the diversion, but I worry it’s a dangerous one, is all. Don’t let it get to you, is all I’m trying to say.”

He wanted to understand. Perhaps in some way he did. But the words sank into him, a stone in the pit of his stomach, a worry that would never quite be overcome. He just nodded, and they walked silently through the door.

Anakin had already found her, and Maz Kanata was busy teasing him about something or other. Judging by the rising red that colored Anakin’s whole face and neck, it likely had to do with the Senator. He smiled. It was nice to let him have some sort of normalcy. His teachings told Obi Wan that it was something to be guarded against, but he knew that life wasn’t for Anakin. Why not let him indulge in a little crush? 

Tetra and Obi Wan slid into seats at the table, waiting for Maz and Shmi to finish cooing over Anakin. Well, he waited. Tetra huffed.

“Boy’s got enough ego, ladies, I think he’s in much more need of a knocking over the head or two.” To demonstrate, she lightly smacked Anakin’s arm. He played up the pain, like he would have back in the day, and Maz simply hushed Tetra.

“A good looking boy like this? No amount of knocking is gonna give him any sense. Let him just be pretty and in love!”

“It’s not love just yet, we don’t know how the girl feels,” Shmi cautioned, but Anakin was in a world of his own, leaning towards Maz conspiratorially.

“Do you really think she could be in love with me? Is that what that kiss meant? What do I do, Maz?”

“Anakin,” Obi Wan and Shmi said in perfect time, and in perfectly matching tones, as Tetra smacked him again.

“Enough googly eyes, Kid! Ask your damn questions. Maz is a busy woman!”

“As if you weren’t coming over right now to gossip with me,” Maz snorted, but she and Anakin sat back, waiting patiently for the real matter at hand.

Obi Wan produced the dart he’d previously shown Dex. “A friend tells me it’s Kaminoan, but could not tell me where I might find the planet Kamino. Could you?”

Max scooped it up, adjusting her goggles as she peered closely at the little thing. She nodded, “Definitely Kaminoan. Definitely deadly. You sure you want to be getting mixed up in this?”

“Why? Can you tell me any more about it?”

“I can tell you I’m glad I banned your boyfriend. He wouldn’t be pleased to see this contraption in these parts. Not that he’d  _ say  _ anything,” Maz chuckled to herself at her own joke. Obi Wan politely ignored it. “‘Best bounty hunter in the galaxy’, what a stupid fight. Can’t argue over it if you won’t even fight each other, can you? Anyway, as far as I can recall, I have coordinates to Kamino. And as far as I remember, this looks to be Jango Fett’s style,” she rolled her eyes, “I didn’t tell you this, but he’s banned too. Tries to get away with it, sneaking around here, thinking I won’t notice. I always notice!”

“Do you kick him out?” Anakin asked, interested.

Maz gave him a sidelong look, and Obi Wan didn’t think it possible, but she looked embarrassed. “He’s slippery.”

“She means he makes it up to her, by paying her off,” Tetra scoffed. “Jango’s a mean, cold-hearted bastard, but he plays ball when he needs to, and cuts just as fast. I’ve warned you!” She looked pointedly at her smaller friend, but Maz just stuck her nose up in the air, pretending not to notice Tetra’s judgment.

_ A wonder they all don’t do that,  _ Obi Wan thought, but if any bounty hunter was likely to be banned and unwilling to try and negotiate the terms if he felt they were beneath him, it would be Bane. But that wasn’t why they were here. He needed them all to focus, “Do you know why Fett would be on Kamino?”

“Is it his base of operations, maybe?” Anakin added.

Maz shrugged, “By purposeful design, nobody knows much about Fett. I just recognize the modifications, but I don’t know why he’d have Kaminoan tech on him. Hold on, let me get you those coordinates.” She shuffled off her chair, and started yelling at one of her bartenders in surprisingly good Shyriiwook, leaving them to ponder what they had learned.

“Is it worth asking,” Anakin started, but Shmi, Tetra, and Obi Wan were all of the same mind when they said No together.

“We’ve likely already asked more questions than is safe, Anakin,” he tried to explain. Luckily, Anakin understood, and did not press the issue. “Kamino is our next stop. Whatever answers we’re looking for lie there.”

Maz arrived back, holding a datapad in her hand triumphantly, “Here you are, boys! Kamino!”

They thanked her profusely, and said their goodbyes. No one was happy to see them go. But the sooner they could uncover this plot, the sooner they could return to their lives, freer and safer men, in a world without Count Dooku, hopefully. 

They set their course, and jumped to lightspeed, destination to Kamino set, locked and loaded.

When the  _ Miss  _ was forced out of lightspeed not even halfway there, they had, as always, a bad feeling about it.

When the  _ Miss  _ was shot out of space, and began erupting into flame all around them, they knew something was deadly wrong.


End file.
